


A Long Way Gone

by Plodder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Identity, M/M, Post Revenge of the Sith AU, There may be Sith and they might still get revenge, Weird dreams, aftermath of war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plodder/pseuds/Plodder
Summary: The clone wars have ended.  The Sith, presumably, have died. The twins were born and Padme survived.  All seems well for now, but life is unpredictable and always changing.While trying to figure out his relationship with Anakin, Obi-Wan has to try to make sense of some strange dreams and odd occurrences.  Quinlan Vos tries to help.Update-April 2018- If anyone is reading this, I haven't abandoned it, I just got stuck.  With some help I hope to revise it and come back to it soon.  THANKS.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is reading this, thanks!! Give it a try if you'd like.

About two years post a very alternative ending to Revenge of the Sith

 

Narrow and secret, a path divided a golden plain of tall grass. Through its winding way, a man walked, his fingers brushing the tips. The path meandered lazily up a hill. In the distance, he noted a strange building rising. White and ancient, the façade was supported by crumbling columns. Unease crackled in his mind. There was a rustling beside him, the sound of something large coming through the grass.

Beep beep beep

Awakened rudely, he fumbled for his holovid receiver and a miniature, blue Anakin appeared.

“Anakin, this had better be good. Its 0500.” He growled.

“You haven’t commed me in 2 days. I was worried” Anakin sounded petulant.

Obi-Wan heard the gleeful screams of toddlers in the background and a female voice calling out. He softened.

"Anakin, there’s nothing to worry about. If you’re so concerned about my welfare, you should let me sleep.”

“When are you coming home?” The never ceasing question again. Hmm.

“Anakin, I am home. We can’t have it any other way.” Obi-Wan told himself to be firm.

“I’m not going to quit trying to convince you” Anakin was persistent, if nothing else.

“I know.”

“I need you here. I miss you.” Anakin’s voice lowered.

“Anakin, you’ll see me soon enough when you return with Padme next week.”

“You’re doing alright though? You’re eating? You’re sleeping?” Anakin seemed to think that he needed a mother.

“Yes and Yes, until you woke me up.”

“I don’t need to ask Bant to check in on you again?”

“Anakin, stop this. Don’t make worry where there is none” Obi-wan stretched and thought about getting out of bed. It was cold outside of the blankets.

“I miss you.”

Not this again, Obi-Wan thought. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could show restraint. Anakin was married. With children.

“Anakin, we made our choices and here we are.” Obi-Wan sighed.

“The war is over, master. What do you still owe the order? We won. The Sith are gone.” Anakin frowned noticeably, even for a tiny hologram. He made a harrumphing sound.

“Isn’t that what we thought before?” He lowered his voice. “Anakin, I don’t know any other life.” They’re going down old paths, paths he’d rather avoid. It was time for an evasion tactic.

“Mace is trying to convince me to take a padawan” This would throw Anakin off for a while.

“Really!? Will you?” He could feel Anakin’s hesitancy and discomfort with that thought.

“I’m trying to avoid it at all costs. No one could possibly replace you. I shudder to think of it.”

“Shut up master. You love me.”

Obi-Wan found it endearing that Anakin still often slipped and called him master. It made him a bit uncomfortable as well.

Reluctantly, he replied, “You are dear to me, Anakin, but training you once nearly killed me.”

Another harrumph.

“I’d never forgive you if you do take one.” Though it sounds petulant, it was certainly the truth.

He hears Padme calling again.

“Anakin, you should help your wife. I’ll talk with you later. “

“I suppose. ” The small, blue form disappeared from sight.

Obi-Wan decided that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep at this point. He made his way to the ‘fresher and studied himself in the mirror. He’d shaved his beard during his convalescence and hadn’t grown it back, not yet. He was in some ways a different person since his brief encounter with death, and part of him had no longer wanted to be associated with the man’s whose face had been plastered all over the holonet. Was it wrong to want to start anew without the questioning stares of the Republic’s citizens?

It did make him look younger, but no one would mistake him for a new knight anymore, not with the grey in his auburn hair. He let his vanities go into the force, shaved, cleaned up, and dressed.

He made his way to the tiny kitchen, steeped tea, and made toast. After breakfast, he meditated on what he should do about this padawan business. It wasn’t possible. How would he explain Anakin? Padme? His excursions to Naboo? Mace had been somewhat more relaxed since the war’s end since so many Jedi had died. Obi-Wan knew that he certainly turned a blind eye to his various attachments and failings, likely out of desperation. An hour passed in meditation, but he was no closer to an answer. Hopefully the force would let him know.

Obi-Wan made his way to Mace’s office at the prescribed time. He passed by a group of initiates whose voices all dropped to whispers as he passed by and then collapsed into giggles once they thought he was out of range. He sighed. No.

Mace was, of course, at his desk. As head of the order, his office was roomy, the back wall all windows overlooking the Coruscanti sky. Lanes of speeders and other vehicles made their way along the traffic routes, the lifeblood of the city planet.

“Kenobi. Sit.”

He complied, knowing he wasn’t going to like this conversation.

“You know what I want to talk to you about.”

“I have an idea”

“I’ve been fairly easy on you the last 2 years. There aren’t enough knights to take on padawans right now. As the order rebuilds itself, all Jedi will need to have apprentices. I have a few suggestions for you.” Maybe it seems that if Mace states all of this in one breath, he won’t be able to resist.

Obi-Wan remains firm.

“I’ll teach, Mace. I’ll tutor some of them. I don’t think that I can bear taking another. Plus, I do want to focus on my research.”

The sincerity of Obi-Wan’s face lead Mace to pause.

“We’ll discuss this again later.” Mace set down the holopad he was holding and gave Obi-wan a look that implied that this part of the conversation was over.

“You could come to dinner this week”

“I’m quite busy”. Mace had been pestering him to come to his quarters lately. He didn’t exactly know the reason why. There was a generation between them and they had never particularly been close friends. Obi-Wan supposed that with most of the old council gone, there wasn't many left for him to talk to. Kit, Plo, and Shaak Ti were the only other remaining council members who had survived order 66. They were all currently away on relief missions, and they all had taken padawans. Damn.

“I’m a bit busy and not really the best company right now” The latter was definitely true.

“Busy with Skywalker, or drinking with Vos? “

Obi-Wan notes resentment in his voice when mentioning Anakin.

“Those are reasonable uses of my time. I’ll think on it.”

The rest of the day passed distractedly. At evening meal, he dutifully ate some bland combination of tubers and legumes and made his way back to his quarters where he changed into a loose sleeping robe.

A familiar character was waiting outside his door.

“Quinlan, these are my quarters. I seem to recall that you have your own.”

“Mine don’t have brandy, and yours smell better” Quinlan walked in and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“Buy some and invest in a cleaning droid. I’m not in the mood for this”. Obi-Wan tried to scare him off with the pretense of anger. It was not effective. He gave in and sits beside Quinlan.

“Why baby, do you have a headache?” Quinlan gives him an a bit of a leer.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

Seeing that this was going nowhere good, Obi-Wan elected to pour them some brandy and change the subject. They sat in comfortable silence for a minute.

“Has Mace asked you to take a padawan?” He asked Quinlan.

“No, but he still thinks I’m damaged goods. He’s making you, isn’t he? I’m surprised you held out for this long.” Quinlan shrugs his shoulders.

“He’s not made me yet. He’s still worried I’ll leave.”

“We all are, dear friend. There’s so few of us left, especially our crechemates.” Quinlan looks pensive, and then reverts back to his usual grin.

“Well if you do, better choose a good one. Choose one that will grow up to be hot”

That’s disgusting. You’ll be elderly.” Obi-Wan screws up his face in distaste.

“You were born elderly.” Is the clever reply.

Obi-Wan grimaced. He should have seen that one coming.

“But I’d still do you.” Quinlan looked at him expectantly.

“Quin, you’re horrible. Is that your best attempt at seduction?” He smiled fondly. Something stirred within him, an aching loneliness and more. They continued to drink. He didn’t turn away when Vos cupped his face with his large, warm hand and slid closer.

“I still want you, you know.” Quin looks intense.

“I suppose that I do.” He started to turn away, but something stopped him.

Obi-wan knew that they were both lonely and a bit broken. And a bit drunk. If he couldn’t have what he wanted, perhaps this was enough. Quinlan was his first and occasional lover, and a dear friend. They hadn’t been together in years, not since Anakin was a teen, but he’d been haunting Obi-Wan’s quarters more and more. Quinlan deserved something more than being a moment’s quick release, but that whole line of thought reeked of attachment.

Those who thought of Obi-Wan as calm were always startled by his impulsivity, himself included. Obi-Wan was surprised to find himself straddling Quin’s lap, kissing him. Vos turned and pushed him off, holding him down against the sofa. His hands slid down the loose robe, pushing it to his sides. Quin kissed a line down his belly and his mouth moved lower. Why fight this, he thought, especially something this pleasant. Release was not wrong; maybe it would be a distraction him for a while.

They joined together, as old lovers do, with urgency followed by fondness.

At some point, they had moved to the bed. Obi-Wan had fallen asleep flat on his back, beside Quin. He was probably snoring. Pleasing warmth flooded his senses through the force.

His night was not meant for peace.

In the wee, still hours of the morning, the dream returned. It was the time when the specter of ghosts and unknowable, empty death haunt one’s dreams and left one with uneasy sleep.

In his dream, the sun was setting on the grassland with the pillared building in the distance. There was no rustling grass or wind this time. All was still. In the distance, blue, green, and red lights flashed and flickered across the sky, crackling as lightening. As the sun set, more and more red flashes were visible, tinting the darkening sky violet. There was no sound but an overwhelming sense of dread. A dry voice rattled…

Obi-Wan startled awake. It took him a moment to convince himself that it wasn’t real, that he was in his own bed. A nightmare like this was odd for an adult jedi; nothing like this had happened since he was a young child. He released his fear into the force and tried to lower his heart rate and breathing. He wondered if it were some manifestation of misplaced guilt.

Vos snuffled beside him and turned over.

“What’ya doing, Ben? You’re making me anxious just being in the same room. Would have though your neuroses would be gone for a while after last night”.

He smiled at the old childhood nickname. “It would take more than that. Go back to sleep, Quin.”

Quinlan turned back over and buried his head under the pillow. All that was visible was dark, braided hair. Obi-Wan curled against him for a minute, enjoying the solid feel of the muscles of his back, but couldn’t find rest.

As Obi-Wan could no longer sleep, he dressed, made tea. The gardens were dark and cool. Grass was a welcoming seat as night winds murmured. Meditation took him.

The remainder of the day dragged on uneventfully. He taught a form 3 class and returned to his research. No answers were found. Day passed into evening and it was time for rest. Exhausted, sleep found him.

It began again. This time he was closer to the action and night had fallen. The building was no longer in site, but he could feel its presence. The flashes of light brightened, humming and snapping. Red overtook. Screams and rattles filled the air.

Obi-Wan awoke with the overwhelming urge to fight. Battle rage filled his body; he fumbled involuntarily for his ‘saber and leapt off the bed. Once he came to, he felt pretty sheepish and sat on the bed’s edge, head in hands. None of this made any sense. Nothing about anything he had seen in any of the dreams was familiar. Sleep was again elusive.

In the morning, not sure what else to do, he contacted Anakin. Lack of sleep was leaving him a bit maudlin.

“Master, I mean Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked. His hologram is wearing what looks like silk robe with some kind of print. He supposes Anakin is a kept man now.

“I’m having strange dreams. I think they’re of battles.” He sips his tea.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping. Let me come get you.” Anakin says pointedly.

“And take me where, Anakin? I’m home. I serve the order. ” Obi-Wan said this more to convince himself.

“I’m worried about you”

“Anakin, stop.”

“I can’t! I watched you die and I can’t stop seeing it! I can’t sleep either.” 

Obi-Wan’s thoughts turned inwards.

He had died. It had been strangely quiet, quick, and unremarkable, like leaving one room to go to another.

Obi-Wan thought back to the war’s end. He remembered trying to distract Sidious so that Anakin, Yoda, and Mace could make an attack. Sidious had already dealt him a horrible wound. All seemed silent and still, though light sabers were flashing in bursts of brightness and chaos. He remembered his left hand trying to hold in his eviscerated guts, unable to block force lightening with his trembling right. His chest was filled with a strange, rapid fluttering followed by stillness. Hearing had left him, than vision. Unseeing, he had slumped to the floor of Palpatine’s office. Blood pooled in his limbs, no longer able to resist gravity. Warmth evaporated into the floor.

Unable to move or speak, he had felt himself drift into the force. There was no pain. He had tried to not be frightened. He wished he could have held Anakin one more time or at least seen his face. The last thing that he recalled in the chaos was Anakin going off like a supernova and the Sith’s rattling cries. At the end of things, there had been no light or dark, only the force.

He had woken up in the healing halls a month later and had learned that Yoda and over half of the practicing knights were dead. Undercurrents and rumors circled regarding whatever had been done to revive him. Jedi talked in hushed whispers. No one thought him well enough to even discuss it.

Obi-Wan learned from bribing padawan healers that Anakin had not woken up for a week after Sidious’s death and had not been able to touch the force for several weeks more. Obi-wan learned that Anakin would not speak of it, not to anyone.

Anakin had left the temple as soon as he was able, as if he could no longer bear its presence. Obi-Wan tried to recover without his constant companion, which was so odd. Normally, Anakin would never have left his bedside. He felt bereft and morose, making healing difficult. Obi-Wan remembered back to the first time he had seen Anakin again.

Exasperated and claustrophobic, when he’d just barely been able, Obi-Wan had eloped from his room in the healing halls and walked (well, crawled really) out to the gardens. Anakin had found him hiding half under a bench, half in the sun. As he luxuriated in the warmth and brightness, he imagined that he looked like a partially animated corpse.

A large shadow had blocked the sun.

“Oh, its you. “ Obi-Wan smiled fondly. He tried to get up but all strength failed him.

Anakin had sat beside him and gently ran his fingers through his hair. Obi-Wan didn’t’ have the physical or mental fortitude to push him away.

“The whole temple is looking for you.” Anakin smiled.

“That’s an exaggeration.” He sighed. Anakin’s hands were gentle but possessive.

“A crechling could bring me back to justice right now. I just couldn’t bear it any longer. “ He looked away. The ground was hard on his bony body; he was getting uncomfortable.

“You look so terrible still; I’m worried. Master, it’s been over a month. It’s never taken you this long to heal.” Anakin was frowning. He had maneuvered Obi-Wan so his head was resting on this thigh.

“I died Anakin. I wasn’t well even before that. I see it now. “

Anakin took a deep breath.

“Obi-Wan, for once don’t argue. I’m taking you to Naboo. How are you going to heal in a place that you hate? We can keep in close contact with the healers.”

“Anakin… my place is with the order. We have so much to talk about. “

“I miss you; I need you.” Anakin looked bereft, full of stark emotion.

There was so much said and unsaid. So much they had danced around without actually discussing. Anakin’s wants and actions were often conflicting.

“Anakin, you can’t complain about missing me; you left the order! “

This came out of a shout. After that, what was left of the meager dregs of his energy left his body. Despite the sun, he shivered.

Anakin gave him a worried, soft smile.

“I need to get you inside. Just come. You can leave once you’re better, your choice. You and the order can at least give me this. Let me and Padme take care of you for a while.”

He’d been too worn down to argue and acquiesced. He realized sadly that he didn’t have the strength to get all the way up. Obi-Wan’s arms trembled as he tried to push off the ground. He tried not to be humiliated.

“I’m going to have to carry you.” Anakin smirked.

“Just do it Anakin, but mind that you don’t hurt your back.”

“You don’t weigh more than Padme”

“Don’t be foolish Anakin, that’s hardly true.”

Anakin raised his eyebrow, but knew not to say anything more.

Obi-Wan was rather discouraged by Anakin’s effortless strength. It didn’t say much about his pitiful state. It was comforting to be folded in Anakin’s arms, even for a minute. He had been alone for so long, waiting for him and not knowing if he would return.

Obi-Wan returned his thoughts back to the present.

“You were lost for a moment there.” Anakin remarked. He sounded concerned.

“Yes. I was distracted.” Obi-Wan admitted.

“Tell me about your dream.”

Obi-Wan described the scene, the building, and the flashes of light, which had to have been light sabers.

“It must be a battle, but not one that I’ve ever seen. Why would I keep dreaming about it? “ He hoped it wasn’t repressed guilt over his attachment or some nonsense like that.

“I don't know, but I’ll look into it”

“I will too. I must go teach, Anakin.”

“We’ll be on Coruscant in 3 days. I expect to see you, master.”

“Of course.” Then starts the temptation, thinks Obi-Wan.

After the conversation ends, Anakin thought quietly about his friend, his lover, or was it ex-lover? He had been strange since his death, both distant and at the same time closer. He supposed he had got everything that he wanted at the war’s end, Padme, the twins, a life where he was free to live as he chose. Obi-Wan came back and didn’t join the force, but didn’t join him. He should be happy, but he felt unsettled. Nothing ever felt like enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who read this. 
> 
> I've no other writing experience other than college and medical/scientific stuff, so constructive criticism is always welcome. 
> 
> If you want to say hi or harass me (kindly please), you also can at darthplodder.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More dreams, more blundering, and more Quinlan Vos.

“Dantooine.” 

Anakin contacted him the following afternoon and opened with this.

“Hmmmm? Isn’t that one of the innumerable planets you crashed on? I fail to see how that qualifies as a greeting.” It probably came across as snappy. Obi-Wan was buzzing with impatience. 

“Yes, but, well… listen for a minute before you yell some more. I’ve been thinking about this since the last time we talked. What if you’re having dreams about a battle in the past?” Little blue Anakin tilted his head to the side quizzically. 

When Anakin found a purpose, he’d pursue it into the ground, as long as it kept his interest. He’d probably been attacking the holoweb since they’d last talked, pounding a million cups of caf and driving Padme to drink. 

“Anything is possible, Anakin, but it’s probably just a dream.” Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Don’t even try to convince me that you believe that. You’ve forgotten how well I know you.” 

Damn. Anakin was, on occasion, annoyingly perceptive, but Obi-Wan supposed he wasn’t really that hard to read. 

“I’ve been to Dantooine. It’s covered in grass.”

Obi-Wan thought back to Anakin’s misadventures there. He had nearly died of his injuries. Obi-Wan remembered the sinking dread he had felt; the horror of unbearable loss that had crept over him when he heard of it. He didn’t fear death because the fear of losing Anakin was worse. 

“Anakin, so are many planets. I should probably be going.” Obi-Wan tried to end the conversation. 

It was a lie, he had no pressing tasks, but sometimes just talking to Anakin made him feel like a rudderless ship, adrift at sea. He loved Anakin, but he brought back so many memories of the vagaries of war and loss, of his own various failings. 

Anakin just kept talking. “There was a Jedi enclave there. It was destroyed by the Sith a long time ago.“ 

“Why would I dream of that? It seems improbable?”

“Dunno, you have been studying Sith lore… You’re also appealing to darksiders; Remember all the times I rescued you?”  
For once, Obi-Wan doesn’t deny the truth in that statement.

“Anakin. If I have a moment, I’ll look into it. See you in 2 days.” Obi-Wan ended the call. He was too mentally exhausted to keep up the conversation. 

Obi-Wan wandered over to the archives. The cool blue lights of the holobook shelves were calming, the repetitive towers and rows soothing. This place, at least, still felt like home. 

He’d passed Mace on the way who insisted on dinner tonight. He supposed he’d put it off long enough. He’d also heard rumor that Mace was a good cook, but Obi-Wan supposed that anything was better than whatever bland but nutritious mash was being served in the commissary. Maybe there would be wine…

Obi-Wan sat at one of the archive’s consoles and typed in Dantooine. The images revealed rolling grasslands that looked eerily familiar. He shivered and pulled his cloak around him. There was a sudden and familiar pounding in his chest. He quickly closed the page. 

This was getting tiresome. Had something in his mind broken in death? Or maybe his imagination was overactive secondary to lack of meaningful stimulation? Mace had been reluctant to send him on any significant missions yet. Maybe that was telling in and of itself. 

The feeling of overwhelming terror was quite odd. He’d faced the clone wars without it, mainly because he did not fear death or capture. He had faced them so many times they were like old friends, sometimes more constant than his living companions. True fear was brought on only by the threat of loss of those he was attached to. 

Obi-Wan steeled himself and opened the page again, focusing in on the history of Jedi on Dantooine. He tucked his arms in his sleeves. There had been an enclave there, a training facility of sorts. It had essentially been destroyed in the Jedi Civil War by the Sith over 3000 years ago. He pulled up an image of the building and tried not to have the same visceral reaction. It was the same. 

Sith, hmm, he thought to himself. He had taken to studying them since his death; something Mace thought was odd. The Sith currency was terror, he thought, they traded in it and used it to suit their purposes. Was someone putting these images in his head? The whole thing reeked of Sidious. He shook his head and focused on his breathing. Sidious was dead. Many had witnessed it; they had burned his body. 

He entered his code and went in to the restricted section. He’d been studying the various materials they had recovered from Sidious’s office and quarters for a few months now. Most of the data had somehow been linked to his life force and had self-destructed at the time of his death. There were a few handwritten things which made no sense out of context and random other bills and records. In some scrawled journals, he had seen several mentions of a shrine. What shrine? He stared at it for the hundredth time, not coming to any meaningful conclusions. 

He looked down at his chronometer. Blast. It was time for dinner. He arrived at Mace’s quarters a few moments later. 

A lanky, brown-haired boy opened the door, braid swinging from his shoulder length hair. 

“Master Kenobi, come in! “ The boy gives him a meaningful look, interest clear in his brown eyes. He had endearingly large hands and feet. 

“Caleb, its good to see you”. He’s glad that the teen was seemingly recovered from the death of his old master and settling in well with his grandmaster. He walked into the spacious sitting area

“Caleb will be going to study with some of his age-mates” Mace stated, giving the boy a direct stare. Caleb looked back longingly and then complied, taking his holopad with him.

“My padawan idolizes you. He kept begging me to ask you if you would give him some sparring pointers.” Mace stood there like an awkward, erect statue, holding 2 glasses of wine.

How odd, thought Obi-Wan. His own master was the best in the order. He was just a burnt out middle-aged man, possibly quite ruined by a long and brutal war. Gods, he was the one having nightmares of all things. Not the sort who should be teaching the impressionable young. 

“Of course”. There was no point in arguing. He turned his eyes from direct contact. Maybe this would help them to avoid further talk about the whole padawan situation. Obi-Wan accepted the glass of red wine Mace offered him. He hoped the whole evening didn't pass awkwardly. Wine would help.

Obi-Wan distracted himself with the smell of something delightful cooking. His stomach growled loudly; maybe skipping midday meal to wallow in the archives was a poor choice. He wrapped his arms around the offending area. Mace pretended not to notice. Obi-Wan sat down on one of the stools and drank his wine. He couldn't believe he was here, not knowing exactly what to say. He'd never had word finding difficulty before. Maybe he lost his bantering abilities in temporary death.

“What have you been doing with yourself?” Mace asked.

“Going through Sidious’s things again.” Obi-Wan took a gulp of wine. He knew what would come next.

Mace frowned. “You know my thoughts on this. I think it is a waste of a valuable Jedi’s time. We’ve been over all of that material. There’s nothing there.”

He walked over to the kitchenette and prepared 2 plates. 

“Enough of that for now. Come eat.”

They sat at the table. Ob-Wan’s presented with a dish of spicy noodles with vegetables and some kind of flatbread. It looks wonderful and he tried not to be surprised. He took a few bites and was then again distracted, thoughts circled in his mind in an unending loop.

“How do we know, for sure, that the Sith are gone? They hid for millennia, biding their time. We’d look like fools if we allow that to happen again.” Obi-wan set his fork down. 

“We’re not being complacent, Kenobi. Our alert will remain high.” Mace said, looking up from his food. 

“The master is dead and he died without an apprentice, never having quite turned Skywalker. We know that. “ 

Mace made a sour face when he said Anakin’s name. Obi-wan ignores this. 

“There could still have been acolytes or students or something.” Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to give up the conversation. 

“We have imperatives looking into that, you know this.” Mace goes back to eating. 

Obi-Wan wished he could accept this, but he felt so unsettled. He continued to feel oddly at a loss for words. He set his fork down after toying with the food, his appetite gone. The wine, at least, was soothing. He took a deep breath, there was something that has to be said. 

“I’m not the knight you want me to be, not anymore, Mace. My focus is gone. My attachments run too deep. I’m distracted”

“You’re still recovering.” There was a hint of desperation in Mace’s voice. 

“It’s been two years. Sure, my legs and back still ache at times, but physically I’m fine.”

Mace made a face like he was steeling himself to something. 

“What would you do if you left the order? You’d be lost without a purpose.”

“Sort out my issues with Anakin, weave baskets, be a bantha herder, I don’t know.”  
Mace looked down, unsure of what to say. Obi-Wan brought his plate to the counter, appetite gone.

“Are you sure you don’t want more?”

“No, save it for your padawan; I’m sure he eats his weight in food. I’m sorry for being bad company.” Obi-Wan started making his way out.

“We don’t have to talk about order business you know. You can talk to me about what’s bothering you.”

Obi-Wan frowned.

Mace turned to him, his voice frank. “You’re torn between the order and Skywalker. At some point you’ll have to choose. Until then, I won’t pressure you too hard. Don’t think that I’m letting this go, though.” 

“There’s nothing to say, Mace. I don’t know how to fix it”. Obi-Wan thanked him for dinner and gave him a slight bow. 

He returned to his quarters for the evening, and not unexpectedly, Quinlan was there. He’d helped himself to some Corellian rum and was reading a holobook. 

Quin looked at him and raised an eyebrow expectantly. Maybe if Obi-Wan ignored him and didn’t say anything, he’d disappear. If he reacted angrily, it would just provide positive reinforcement. 

Obi-Wan went to the kitchenette and made tea. He’d drank enough wine for the night. He could feel Quinlan’s eyes boring into his back. He hummed to himself, feigning nonchalance, and then sat down beside him.

“Your hair is getting long” Vos stated, reaching out to touch a strand. He tried not to flinch. 

“It looks good on you.” Gods, how much had Quin been drinking? He still looked pretty steady, so likely not too much. 

“You look terrible, though.” He added, as an afterthought. That was more like Quinlan. 

“I know you’re not sleeping. Don’t even try to deny it. I was there the other night.” Quinlan frowned markedly. 

“I’m exhausted Quin. Just let me be.” Obi-Wan leaned back.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re just going to brood yourself miserable if you’re left alone.” 

“When’s Skywalker coming, anyway? For someone who’s as obsessed as he is with you, he’s not taking very good care of you.”

“Why does everyone think I need to be taken care of like some kind of errant child?” Obi-Wan huffed.

“Because we love you and you can’t take care of yourself for shit.” Quin said, grinning. 

“I’ve made it this far.” Vos started laughing. 

“Only with a lot of help. You’d probably would have starved to death or been sold as a pleasure slave 20 years ago if it weren’t for your army of caretakers. “

Obi-Wan punched him lightly in the thigh.

“Quin! You’re terrible. "Stay then. Don’t make a nuisance of yourself.”

“Do I ever?” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow to this. 

“I can’t repeat the other night though, as nice as it was.” If he was going to be good and attached romantically, it really shouldn’t be to 2 people. 

“I like you enough that I’ll stay, even without sex.” 

Obi-Wan drank his tea and thought about the near future. As exhausted as he was, there wasn’t anyway he could sleep right now.

Maybe he could put Quinlan to another good use. He had been a shadow agent. Now, like Obi-Wan, he was a bit of a washed up drifter. Obi-Wan shuddered. He had unwittingly orchestrated Quin’s fall. He tried to ignore that thought.

“Do you know of some kind of Sith shrine on Coruscant?” 

“Not exactly. Master Tholme talked about something like that once. He’d heard rumors that this temple was built on top of a Sith shrine. He could never confirm it.”

“Why would they have designed it that way?” Obi-Wan wondered.

“To contain its power, I suppose. Master explained that it was a common practice long ago. Certain places are strong in the force and draw force users to them, like pirates, slavers, bounty hunters, and Sith are drawn to you” Quinlan smiled.

Obi-Wan had actually thought Quin would be serious for a moment. Or not.  
He drank his tea, self-soothing. What if this was the shrine Sidious had mentioned? Maybe he had used it to exert some kind of influence over them, clouding them. 

He stood up and yawned. 

“I’m going to bed”

Quin had gone back to reading (a very, umm, enlightening romance) and grinned.

Obi-Wan undressed and showered, crept into bed. Surprisingly, he fell quickly into a deep sleep. Of course, the dream returned. 

The sky was the lovely navy blue of dusk. At first, there was little to see. Wind whipped and rushed around him. Cries, groans, screams, explosions, and the hiss of light sabers were carried by the wind, encircling him in a horrifying chorus. 

In a crack of thunder, he was hit suddenly from behind, falling to the ground. The world went dark. He awoke in a long, dark corridor. He felt compelled towards something or someone and started to walk. The way seemed unending. Ob-Wan reached a tall, dim chamber with impossibly high, vaulted ceilings. A black and red object sat on a far alter. Without words, it called to him. He slowly approached, unable to stop.

He awoke to someone violently shaking his shoulder. Involuntarily, Obi-Wan threw a punch. Hard. It connected with something fragile. He opened his eyes and saw Quinlan there, cursing creatively, with a bloody nose. 

“Well, at least you can still pack a punch” Quinlan looks markedly worried.

Obi-wan surveys his surroundings. To his horror, they’re not in his quarters. He’s sitting on the floor in the lower detention units, in just his drawers. 

“What in the sweet force gods happened?” He was trembling violently. Quin passed him his cloak, which he somehow had with. 

“You’re asking me?” Quinlan boggled. “I heard you leave and followed you here. It was pretty weird. And not that I’m complaining, but you don’t normally roam the halls in your underwear, do you? Were you planning on starting a trend?” He wiped the blood from his nose. He looked concerned.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were sleeping. You seemed to be on a mission, and you wouldn’t answer me. “

Obi-Wan sat there, too shaken to get up, head in hands. His temples throbbed with the beat of his pulse. A wave of exhaustion shuddered through him. 

“Did anyone see me?” He didn’t want the whole temple to know he was losing his mind.  
“Nah. It’s the middle of the night and no prisoners are down here. It’s probably a good thing. Not many could control themselves after seeing you without your 800 layers”. Quin said, trying to add some levity. 

“Let’s get back before the whole temple can’t control their urges.” Quinlan pulled him up. 

Back at his quarters, Quin made him tea (passably well), got a towel for his nose, and they sat on his bed, both staring out the window. Obi-Wan explained his recurrent dream. 

“That’s pretty strange, Ben. Have you told Mace or Plo or one of the healers about it?”

“No! Just Anakin. I already feel like I’ve lost my mind; I don’t need their pity! I’ll have to make sense of it on my own.” Obi-Wan felt hot pressure behind his eyes. He blinked it away. Nonsense. 

Quin put his arm around his shoulders. “Maybe things will be clearer in the morning. I’ll help with whatever I can”. Obi-Wan sank against him, allowing himself a little bit of comfort. He closed his eyes. 

“We’ll figure it out, old friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be a lot more Obi-Wan and Anakin the next chapter :).  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-Wan finally reunite. Padme is lovely as always. More odd occurrences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've worked nights lately, which has led to insomnia, which has led to more writing. So here is a chapter much earlier than planned. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone who's commented, left kudos, or bookmarked this. I'm amazed!

The next day passed in tedium and anticipation with no answers found. Dreams were replaced by an agitated insomnia. 

In the morning, a restless Obi-Wan found himself at Padme’s apartment. He pushed the button for the door and then buried his hands in the sleeves of his robe, trying to quiet his mind. 

Anakin answered, wearing a loose shirt and rather tight trousers. His hair was bleached dark gold by the Naboo sun and was tousled and oh so soft. He’d filled out a bit in the past two years, not so much the willowy boy anymore. His feet were endearingly bare. Damn. So much for resolve. He gave Obi-Wan his sweet, seemingly shy half smile. 

“Obi-Wan… ah… Padme is out with the kids.”

Oh damn. This was not good. He stepped inside. They stared at each other pointedly, not knowing what to say, facing off like they were about to spar. Anakin broke the tension and pulled him into a monstrous hug, lifting him from the ground. 

“Anakin… hummphhh…” Is all that came out as Anakin squeezed the voice from him. He was set down gently. 

“You’re so little.” Anakin knows this will warrant a reaction. It’s not precisely true, but it always got a rise out of him, that or calling him old. Annoying Obi-wan was one of his favorite activities, and he knew Obi-Wan secretly enjoyed it.

“I am not Anakin. You are just absurdly large.” Obi-Wan fussed at his robes, straightening them. He wasn’t that short, he just knew tall people. Quinlan always said he was stunted because Qui-gon didn’t feed him properly. Nonsense.

“Ahsoka’s probably taller now”. 

“What an accomplishment.” 

Obi-Wan’s face softened at her name. “How is she?”

“She’ll be here tonight, you can ask her yourself.”

Anakin stepped close so that he was inches away from Obi-Wan’s face. He cupped the back of his head with one hand and tenderly brushed his hair from his face with the other. 

“You look good. Tired though.” 

Anakin twirled a piece of his hair. 

“This looks good” 

He smirked, and brushed his hand across the stubble on his jaw. “I forget that you have such nice dimples.” 

Anakin pulled him closer. He smelt of clean skin and sandalwood. His smooth, broad chest was visible through the unbuttoned shirt. Obi-Wan felt all resolve melting. In an eye’s blink their lips joined hungrily as Anakin pulled him tighter, sliding his hands down his back. He let Anakin take the lead, for now.

“Why do you wear so many layers, master?”

“Don’t call me that. Mmmm.” He slung his hands around Anakin’s neck. “To avoid temptation…”

“Anakin, what if Padme returns?”

“She won’t, not for a while. She’s letting me have some time with you.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to think about this. He knows she’s aware of their indiscretions. She had almost encouraged it on Naboo, but he had presumed it was out of pity. He would have to talk to Padme directly at some point. 

Anakin started to kiss his neck up to the shell of his ear. He shoved his under tunic down, nibbling at his clavicle. Obi-Wan was flooded with warmth and rising heat. Anakin pushed him hard against the wall.

Obi-Wan shoved back at Anakin, startling him and making them both topple to the rug below. They laughed as Obi-Wan straddled him on the floor. He pulled off Anakin’s shirt.

“It’s not fair, you’re still wearing about 9 layers of clothes.” Anakin pouted. Obi-Wan started rapidly divesting of his robes and tunics, while Anakin watched. He then leaned down closer to Anakin, rubbed against him and kissed him hard, pushing him into the ground. Anakin grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him back over.

After Anakin flipped him over onto his back, an instant, pounding headache came on followed by nausea. Obi-Wan pushed Anakin off, rocketed off the ground, and ran to the fresher, where he evacuated the remains of his breakfast.

He heard Anakin behind him, could feel his concern. 

“I didn’t think it was that bad?” Anakin looked bewildered. He ran a hand through his tousled hair.

Obi-Wan regained composure and sat on the floor of the ‘fresher. “I’m sorry Anakin, I’m not feeling like myself.” 

“You have a headache, don’t you? You’re all pale and pinched.” 

Anakin handed him a wet cloth and offered him a hand up. He should be pleased, along with annoying him, one of Anakin’s other favorite past times was fussing after him.

“Come and lay down.”

Nausea rolled through him in waves, his head felt as though it had grown two sizes and been set on fire. He couldn’t remember feeling this bad since he ate some undercooked shellfish on Corellia.

Obi-Wan lay on the couch and Anakin put his head in his lap. His warm hand covered his forehead, relieving some of the pain with a touch of the force. They sat in stillness for a minute as Anakin toyed with his hair. 

“Do you remember our first time? “ Anakin asked, trying to distract him. He softly placed his hand on his belly, rubbing gentle circles. 

“I do.” 

Obi-Wan thought back. It was about a week after the Zygerrian mission. Anakin had come to his quarters late at night. Obi-Wan had admittedly had a few drinks and was still fairly achy. Anakin stood at his door, rigid, his face stricken and bare. 

“We’re never doing that again.” Anakin growled, mildly tremulous.

“What, Anakin?” Obi-Wan raised his brow.

“Using you as bait for a slaver. Never again. I can’t bear it…. I had no idea where you were!”

At that, Anakin rushed at him, kissing him hard on the lips. Obi-Wan gasped.

“Am I hurting you?” 

“No, you startled me” 

Truly the answer was yes, but physical pain was a welcome distraction. The recent events had left Obi-Wan feeling raw and fatalistic. He wasn’t sure what he had to lose.

“Don’t stop.”

Anakin kissed him again, more forcibly. The rest was a bit of a blur. The next thing he remembered was he laying on the hard floor, next to Anakin, entirely spent. The room looked like thieves had ransacked it or large animals had been fighting for dominance. Furniture was tipped over, clothes and underwear strewn about, belongings scattered. He wasn’t sure how long they lay there, fingers intertwined, panting.

Once they started, it was impossible to stop, an avalanche rolling down a mountain, gathering snow as it went. They found themselves together again and again; Obi-Wan let Anakin take out his pent up frustration and need on him, though it didn’t end up a one-sided act. They gave each other comfort that only they could understand. Their interdependence grew. 

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Obi-Wan mused: “It was intense, to say the least”.

Anakin chuckled, his fingers in his hair. 

“Why are you all out of sorts, anyway? Are you sick?”

“I’m not sleeping well.” Obi-Wan tried to avoid direct eye contact. 

“It happened again, that dream, didn’t it. Don’t you try to deny it.” Anakin looks down at him pointedly with blue eyes a blaze.

“You’re making that face, your I’m hiding something face.”

Obi-Wan aggressively sighed.

“I’m sick of secrets! You’ll tell me what’s going on or I’ll hold you down and force tickle you.”

Anakin was physically stronger and his raw strength in the force was greater, so this wasn’t an idle threat. He set Obi-Wan’s head down on the couch and got up. He was getting agitated. 

Obi-Wan reluctantly disclosed the events of the other night, which had resulted in him half naked in the detention levels.

Anakin paced about. “What in the 9 kriffing hells is going on?” 

“I wish I knew, Anakin.”

Anakin clenched and unclenched his fists as he continued to pace.

“We have to talk to someone and figure this out. It’s making you sick. It’s not right.”

“Anakin, who would we talk to? Anyone would think I’m mad.”

“Master Windu, Master Koon, one of the mind healers, I don’t know. But you can’t go on like this.”

“I suppose not.” Obi-Wan rubbed his head. 

“Why don’t you go to the spare room and lay down? I’ll come get you for dinner. Padme’ll understand.”

Though he felt foolish napping in the day like an infant, it sounded wonderful. The room was cool and dark, the bed with much softer sheets than his own. He had to admit that he felt safe and protected with Anakin near by. Rest came easy. 

Dreams also came easy, but were not so pleasant. They were entirely different than before, only the sense of dread was the same. There was no grassy plain, no strange buildings, no vaulted ceilings, but instead the scene of his death. 

The chaos was there as was the strange lack of pain brought on by a dying body’s endorphin rush. Everything slowed to a halt. His eyes fixated on Anakin. He was standing, haloed by the light of the force, holding his ‘saber aloft like an avenging angel’s sword. The light, Anakin’s light, somehow blocked the force lightening that was consuming Obi-Wan. Deflected backward, it struck Sidious unaware. He fell to the ground, and Anakin stabbed him through the heart. As he lay dying, Obi-Wan felt something pass towards him, cackling madly, and then it dissipated into the force.

His dead eyes saw Anakin approaching, still aglow, a sun in supernova. His hands reached toward him, with light unending. 

Obi-Wan was then awoken to the present by the smothering weight of an all too familiar and very solid body. 

“Anakin, you’re crushing me!’ He managed to squeak out. 

“Time to get up!” Anakin yelled gleefully. He lifted his weight off Obi-Wan and lay by his side. 

“You’re so cuddly right now.” Anakin threw an arm around him and snuggled in. 

“Mmmmm. One of the good things about you is you’re always warm”

Obi-Wan tried to clear his muddled mind. “Glad I provide some kind of useful service.”

He settled into Anakin for a moment. It would have been pleasant if there wasn’t a party going on outside and he wasn’t thoroughly disturbed.

Obi-Wan shook him off, rubbed his eyes, and looked out the window. It was night. He could feel that there were a lot more people in the apartment than were there when he arrived. 

“Anakin, you should have woken me a long time ago. What will your guests think?”

“I told them that you weren’t feeling well. They think you’re recovering from some kind of flu you got from a crechling.” Anakin got up from the bed. 

“Lovely”. Obi-Wan frowned and gathered his outer garments from the far table. 

“Clean up and join us when you’re ready.” Anakin turned and grinned, then stalked out of the room. 

Obi-Wan went to the ‘fresher, brushed his hair, and splashed water on his face. He looked presentable enough, he supposed. He face was a bit pale and sharp, eyes violet shadowed. They’d probably believe the flu story at the least. He still felt sheepish at spending the day in bed. 

Steeling himself, he walked into the fray. He saw Padme, and Bail Organa, some other former senators, and Rex. He was about to go to greet Padme when he was met with a running tackle and for the second time that day was lifted off the ground. He wasn’t quite sure what the fascination with crushing him was. 

“Master Kenobi!” 

Feet back on the ground, he made direct eye contact with a dear face.

“Ahsoka. You don’t have to call me that” He smiled at her. The tips of her montrals were noticeably taller than his head, her face longer and leaner. Padme had taken her in when she had left the order, and sent her to do relief work on Naboo as well as other odd tasks to help the republic. 

“You are well?” 

“Of course! I’m helping with Rex and some of the others with relief efforts on Ryloth. We happened to be here on Coruscant to pick up more supplies.” She bounced a little on the balls of her feet and peered at him. 

“Skyguy said you were sick?”

“I’m recovering” He touched her shoulder gently. 

“Get some food and come join Rex and I!” 

This seemed like a reasonable plan. Anakin and Padme were engaged in what looked like an intense conversation with a senator from Pantora. 

Obi-Wan walked over to an exquisitely arranged and decadent buffet table and placed a few select items on his plate. A waiter droid handed him a drink. He joined Rex and Ahsoka.

Seeing any of the clones left him with a lingering sense of guilt. So many had died, and for what? A false war with no real winners, only decimation. The most difficult part was they had no choice. There were so many things he wished had been different.

“General, its good to see you.” 

“You too, captain. Are you well?” It was easy to fall into this pattern, as if the war never ended. 

“Right as rain.” 

An awkward moment passed. Obi-Wan thought about Cody, who clearly was not here. The clones had their chips removed after order 66, though some, like Rex, had theirs removed before. They had all been declared citizens of the republic by Chancellor Organa and given the option to do as they pleased or remain as an army of sorts, mainly for relief and rebuilding purposes. Many had chosen this option, not knowing any other life. 

“Cody would like to have come, but…”

Obi-Wan interrupted him. “I understand, Rex.” He took a large swig of his drink. 

A tall, handsome personage then made a welcome distraction.

“Chancellor, so good to see you”. Bail looked well, but a bit tired. Obi-Wan was honestly surprised he was here. The reconfiguring of the republic had to have been a chore.

“Same to you, my friend. Are you well?” Bail peered at his face with a slight frown. 

“Well enough. I’m sure I’ll be myself in a few days.” Obi-Wan had forgotten just how tall and broad Bail was, with such nice, straight shoulders. Maybe in another life they could have been closer friends. 

“You don’t look as bad as when we had our little adventure, so at least there is that.” Bail smiled. “Breha and I are adopting.”

“Wonderful news” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-wan noticed Padme heading in to the kitchen. She was really his quarry for the evening, the one he would like to talk with the most.

“Excuse me a moment.” 

Obi-Wan set his drink and plate down on a high table and followed her. He guessed that high tailing it into the kitchen after Padme was a bit odd, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They were alone. 

“Padme, I wanted to speak with you.”

She was beautiful as always, tiny but strong in a silver gown, her hair held by a tiara like a star burst. She was everything he was not. Padme looked at him directly, with the full weight of her kind brown eyes. 

“About Anakin? What is there to say? It’s clear to me that in some odd way the two of you need each other. Sometimes I’m not even sure if you two would survive without the other” 

“Padme…”

She turned and shuffled aggressively with some desert plates, the droids had picked the ones with the violet pattern instead of the silver rimmed version. 

“I’d tell you two to break it off, but I’m afraid I’d lose Anakin. To be honest, I’m afraid I’d lose you too. You are my friend, you know. I think of you as family.” 

“You must hate it, Anakin split between us.”

“Sometimes I hate it, you’re right. But sometimes, well, Anakin has so much love and need that it can be overwhelming. I’m secretly glad that he has another outlet.” 

She stacked the plates in front of her.

“We aren’t ordinary people and our relationship is an odd one. Obi-Wan, I wouldn’t mind if you came back to Naboo. We could work something out. I enjoy your company. Anakin would be thrilled.” 

This was an interesting revelation. Obi-Wan imagined the three of them living together in some kind of odd arrangement, like they had before. He had been so unwell for much of it that it hadn’t really mattered.

Would he have separate apartments? Would they take turns? It was mind-boggling. What would her family think? Mace would raise loth cats before he allowed that to continue. It was against his teachings, how he was raised. He would have to leave the order, which was always the crux of the issue. How could he leave the only thing he’d ever known? 

Padme gave him a sad smile, seemingly knowing his thoughts, as she often did.

“Honestly, my only disappointment is he looks for your approval far more than he looks for mine.” 

“Padme, you mean the world to him.”

“As do you. I think there’s no point in competing. Like I said, we’ll work something out.” 

She picked up the plates. 

“I should be returning, my guests will be wanting desert.” She turned away, her straight, elegant back bare.

Obi-Wan almost wished she had yelled and raged at him, as it would have made things easier. He returned to the party, talked and flirted to the best of his abilities until the pounding in his head returned at full force. He said his goodbyes, made some excuses, and left. Anakin told him to visit tomorrow to see the twins, who were already asleep. 

On his return, Obi-Wan’s quarters were empty, but his shadow soon came by. Quinlan arrived without any announcement, humming and wearing civilian clothes. 

“Just checking in. Any weird things going on? Any naked trips to the detention ward? “ 

“No Quin. I’m just going to sit and read.” And try to get rid of the headache.

“Mace is sending me to the lower levels to look into some lead, will you be ok alone?”

“Of course. I doubt I’ll sleep much.” He had slept all day, anyway.

Quinlan frowned. “Well, leave your comlink on, in case you run in to trouble. I’ll stop by when I’m back.”

Alone, he picked up his holo-pad and pretended to read. He noted the hour; it was quite late. His eyes felt heavy. He could just close them for a minute. Sleep came, and with it, more strange events. Time passed oddly, minutes stretched and hours shortened. Faces leered in odd flickering lights. He walked and walked.

This time he woke up cold and alone, on the floor, in a part of the temple he didn’t recognize. His head felt like someone had stuffed it full of hot ash, and he felt every heartbeat. A roiling nausea overcame him, and he vomited bile onto the cursed floor. He lay back down for a minute, willing the sensation to pass. 

“Damn and blast.” He said to no one in particular. 

Obi-Wan fumbled with his com with trembling fingers. They felt too large and clumsy and couldn’t seem to manipulate the buttons. It didn’t matter, however, because the kriffing thing was not functional. He denied himself the urge to throw it at the wall. Obi-Wan focused on the force, willing himself the strength to at least stand and get out of this place. 

Study your surroundings, he thought to himself.

Dim blue light emitted by ancient glow lamps filled the halls, not illuminating the ceilings or corners. Most of the space was held in unseen shadow. It was cold and dry, with ancient, stale air like a sealed tomb. There were a few grim statues of ancient Jedi, odd shadows cast over their faces in the dim light. They all seemed to be sneering and frowning at him. Obi-Wan tried not to shiver. This was far past ridiculous. He glared back at them, for what good it did. It was not like he could bargain with them.

He stood and leaned against the wall, trying to get his bearings. The weight of the temple above him seemed to be pressing down on him, making it hard to move or think. He couldn’t really get a sense of directionality, but at least he knew that he needed to find a way up. He walked the hall and could see no visible exit; it must have been sealed off and forgotten many years ago. 

Obi-Wan looked at his chronometer and realized that over 24 hours had passed since he returned to his quarters. He was suddenly very thirsty. His robes were sodden with sweat, leaching the warmth from his body. He knew he had to get out or he’d die alone with these horrible statues passing their judgment down on him.

He sat back on the floor in the lotus position and worked to control his thoughts. Once his heartbeat slowed to its usual cadence, Obi-Wan used the force to feel around the edges of the hall for weak spots. 

There was a circular area in the far corner of the ceiling, much thinner than the rest of the walls. It was just wide enough that he could pass. He had no idea what was above it or what could come crashing down on him if he broke through. 

What choice was there? 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and centered what was left of his strength. He gathered the force around him and pushed as hard as he could against the weak spot, which popped open. It was a door, albeit a hidden one, only accessible to a strong force user. 

Panting, he lay there, immobile for a minute. He slowed his breathing, then sat back on his heels first, and then stood. He centered himself under the port and then launched through it, landing in some kind of storage room. It was full of ancient and likely forgotten artifacts. His hands and legs were trembling vigorously now, energy depleted. The headache was intensifying at a steady crescendo. 

Obi-Wan looked around at this peculiar room. Odd objects were covered in drapes, some in jars, some in crates covered in illegible runes. Many of the objects were force sensitive and called to him softly.

Free us. Look at us. Open the box. Bright one, take a look. 

He ignored them, but they contributed to the growing unease, his loss of reality. The only thing that seemed true was the throbbing of his temples, white and hot. 

Focus, he thought, let the pain keep you anchored in the present. 

Scanning the room, he found a trap door of sorts and moved into another strange, overlooked place. Time was warped and peculiar. Hours went by. He continued in this manner until he emerged into a guardroom in the lowest detention levels. Rancor were now dancing on his frontal lobes as he choked back nausea, spots were overtaking his vision. He muddled forward. 

By the time he reached the main part of the temple, the stabbing in his head was so unbearable that he willingly stumbled into the healing halls and all but crashed into a wookie junior healer. She caught him easily and supported him to a bed. The pain and light sensitivity left him all but blind, and he collapsed down, sinking closer to oblivion.

He could sense beings moving around him, speaking softly. He felt a small stick in his arm and someone’s gentle hand on his head. Blessed relief came and he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no beta, so please tell me if there's anything egregious. I feel like I've looked at it till my eyes bled.  
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated :).  
> I'm on tumblr at darthplodder, if anyone would like to know.
> 
> Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some hurt with the possibility of comfort and some needed confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bant was a childhood friend of Obi-Wan in the Jedi Apprentice books. I've made her a healer in this story, as other people (I forget who) have done. She's not a "cannon" character, but I like her.

Obi-Wan’s consciousness felt faint, far off, fleeting as he drifted between memories, dreams, and glimpses of the waking world. In one moment, he was 12, sitting in the commissary with Bant, listless stirring the contents of his plate. She was trying without avail to comfort him as she always did, her large Mon Calamari eyes worried. 

He had always known he was going to be a Jedi; it had been an irrefutable fact. Now, at 12, that certainty was dissipating like smoke rising up out of his grasp. No master had chosen him during his final chance; he would be leaving for Bandomeer tomorrow. Dread filled his throat, choking him. He felt bereft, the future dark and unfathomable as a cave’s bottomless lake. He was nobody, not anymore.

He drifted to another far more pleasant scene, the lake country on Naboo. He and Anakin had swum out to a rocky island, through clearest waters on a bright day. They raced like children. Obi-Wan flopped onto a flat rock and lay on his back, letting the sun warm him. The only sound was the soft lapping of water against the rocks. Anakin’s skin was lake cool as he took Obi-Wan’s hand and kissed the soft skin on the inside of his wrist. He leaned down low and whispered forgotten words. They lay as if time stood still, and they and their rock were the small center of the universe. 

Obi-Wan drifted half-awake, closer to reality. Someone was calling his name, someone whose essence in the force was as sweet and kind as that summer day. Bant. Her warm presence fills the room. 

Obi-Wan opened his sticky eyes and any illusion of pleasantness left him. The light was incinerating. His mouth felt like Tatooine during a dry spell, his tongue a size too big. His arm was tethered to an IV line, and he was in a cubicle in the healing halls. Of all the Sith-forsaken places he’d been, this may have been the worst. 

As sweet as Bant was, she was also decidedly not happy. 

“Obi-Wan, what in all the stars did you do to yourself?” She stood by his bed, small and stalwart.

He reached up and rubbed his eyes and face. His beard was growing back. Maybe it would help him feel more like himself. He blinked at Bant, willing words to come back to him.

“You showed up here filthy, covered in dust, severely dehydrated.  
Then I find out no one has seen you for 30 hours. Where have you been??”

“Bant, dearest, it’s so good to see you. You look luminous.”

“Don’t distract me with flattery. Answer the question.”

“I was exploring the lower levels of the temple and got a bit turned around.”

“Why, in the name of the force, would you decide to go explore the depths of the temple?” She smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“Bored, I suppose.” 

He feigned indifference and yawned. As he stretched his arms, he felt unusually stiff. There was a dull pounding still echoing inside of his skull. Some feeling between hunger and nausea was making itself known.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About 14 hours, you little fool.” 

She glowered as best as she was able, narrowing her large eyes.

“Don’t distract me. You are lying. Don’t think I can’t tell. What were you doing?”

How was he supposed to explain to anyone that he blacked out for a day and ended up nearly in the depths of hell? Bant continued on with her rant.

“I know your face. You’re trying to come up with some kind of airy tale to distract me. It will not work. I’m bringing Mace and you’re telling us the whole story. No arguments.” She was still standing over him, looming as best as she was able.

He sighed and tried to look charming

“Don’t bat your eyelashes at me. It won’t get you anywhere.” Bant walked over to the water dispenser. 

She handed him a glass of cold water. It was bliss. He sat up in the bed and the room spun. He gulped back nausea and it slowly receded. 

“Slowly there.” Bant softened her expression and settled him back against some pillows. 

“Had you been ill even before this? Your body is clearly exhausted and your stress hormones are off the chart. You’ve lost a few kilos since your return from Naboo.” 

“I did nothing there but eat and rest, Bant, so that’s no surprise. It’s been an adjustment being back at the temple with so much changed.” 

“I just don’t want you to fall into your wartime habits again. As run down as you were even before your injuries, I’m still amazed you survived.” 

She touched his hand and continued on.

“You have a small entourage wanting to see you. What they lack in numbers they make up for in bravado. We’ve barely been able to keep them out.”

He imagined that Anakin was out there pacing and yelling at anyone who would listen. 

“I’ll let some of them in, but no scenes. They’ll have to be calm. Is your head still hurting?”

He wasn’t sure exactly how she knew of his headache, but well, she was Bant and she always knew.

“Just a bit, Bant. You can let them in.” 

“I’m going to translate that as: yes, Bant, I feel like I’m dying. I’ll get you something for pain first.” 

She mixed something in water and handed it to him, while laying a cool hand on his forehead. 

“I’ll be back.”

Bant left the cubicle and walked to the adjacent room where Anakin and Quinlan were sitting, each staring at the opposite wall. 

“What’s going on? Can I see him now?” Anakin stood with his arms tightly crossed around his chest. His nostrils were flaring. Quinlan stood up as well, but didn’t say anything. 

“Sit down boys. I’m not talking with you looming over me.” 

Quinlan obeyed, used to being ordered about by Bant. Anakin still stood.

Quinlan’s presence in the force didn’t feel as lackadaisical as it usually did. He was wearing an uncharacteristic frown. “Was he wandering around again? When I got back to the temple his rooms were empty.”

“What do you know of it? Why were you in his quarters?” Anakin asked, standing over him.

“Look Skywalker, I followed him the other night when he had a case of the wanders. Who knows where he would have tottered off to if I hadn’t been there.” 

“Why were you with him in the first place?” Anakin was turning red. He’d clenched his hands into fists. 

“He’s allowed friends other than you. You’ve been pretty scarce lately. Do you expect him to be alone all the time?” 

As Anakin grew angrier, Quinlan remained annoyingly calm, usual half-smile back in place. Anakin started to pace.

Bant did her best to diffuse the situation. “No arguing boys! He loves both of you. There’s no need for posturing.” 

 

Anakin took a breath and calmed himself. “What happened, Master Eerin?”

“Well, he stumbled into the halls in the early morning.”

“Voluntarily?” Anakin asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yes. He was filthy, like he’d rolled around in a dusty cellar and immediately collapsed. He’d clearly overextended himself with use of the force. I doubt he’d eaten much in the last few days or had drunk anything in well over a day. He won’t say exactly what he was doing. He was full of charm and evasiveness when he woke up, so he has to be hiding something horrible.”

“Let me see him.” Anakin’s eyes were wide, desperate. His hectic flush had paled. 

“Fine, Anakin, you go in for now.”

She looked toward Vos. “Give him minute, Quin. I’m calling Master Windu. He wanted to speak with Obi-Wan when he was awake.”

Anakin walked into the cubicle and sat down on the edge of the cot. Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed and ringed with dark circles. His skin was translucent pale like the lilies that grew in the spring on Naboo. Anakin reached up and gently brushed his hair off his forehead. He wouldn’t like it if he appeared disheveled. Anakin loved that his hair and eyes couldn’t seem to decide what color they were, red, blond, or brown, grey, blue or green. They seemed to change with his mood and the person he was flirting with. 

If someone was tormenting Obi-Wan, Anakin would strongly consider ripping their limbs off. With that thought, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Anakin suspected he had been awake the whole time.

“Are you ok, old man?”

Obi-Wan gave him a surprising, fond smile. “Help your elder to sit up.”

Anakin pulled him up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and flung his arm around his shoulders. Obi-Wan stiffened for a moment and then relaxed into it. 

“I’m none too clean, Anakin.“

Obi-Wan wiggled out of his hold and tried to straighten the light robes the healers had dressed him in. He brushed some imaginary dust off his thighs.

“Take me back to my quarters, please. I just need to shower and rest for a while. I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’m sorry I missed my time with the twins.” He smiled serenely. 

“Don’t even think for one second that I’m going to help you elope. You better tell me what happened. It’s like that other night, isn’t it.”

Obi-Wan looked down at his lap. “I don’t know what to say, Anakin.” 

At this point, Quinlan, Mace, and Bant came to the cubicle. They all three stood there and looked on in judgment like some ancient holy trinity.

“I’ve heard all sorts of strange things, Kenobi.” Mace was making direct, unflinching eye contact. 

“Nothing the illustrious leader of the order needs to be bothered with, Mace.”  
Now, I’m feeling more myself and would like to go.” 

Obi-Wan made to stand and was instantly pushed down by both Quinlan and Anakin. 

“I’ve heard bits and pieces of the story from this one. “ Mace states, pointing at Vos.

"I've also heard about your condition from Healer Eerin". Mace looked back at Obi-Wan. 

“Now, I want to hear it from you. You’ll tell it to us, from the beginning.” 

Obi-Wan glared at Quinlan and then looked back to Mace. 

“Master Windu, this is ridiculous. Can we talk about this later?” 

He tried to stand again and was again pushed back on the bed. Obi-Wan tried to center himself and appear unflappably, distractingly calm.

“No. Knowing you, there won’t be a later. You can’t fight all of us off. Just get it over with.” Mace crossed his arms and stood firm, blocking the exit. 

Obi-Wan felt like a cornered animal, backed into a trap. His heart raced. He hoped he was shielding his fear well enough, but Bant was giving him a concerned look. He kept his features even and steady.

“Well, if you all must know. The whole thing is rather silly. It started with dreams, first of a building, then of a battle. I think those were of the ancient temple on Dantooine. Why, I have no idea. Perhaps I was reading about it and it worked its way into my subconscious.”

He took a drink of water, mouth dry and voice a bit hoarse.

“In the next, I was in some kind of building, maybe a Sith shrine. There was an object there, perhaps a holocron? I felt compelled towards it. That’s when Quinlan followed me to the detention levels. I have no recollection of that, until Quinlan woke me up.” 

Mace turned to Quinlan. “Vos, what did he seem like when you followed him?”

“It was pretty weird. His eyes were open, but he wouldn’t respond to me or speak at all. I followed him for a while. He seemed to be looking for something and getting worked up about not finding it. I somehow managed to wake him up, and he clocked me in the nose.”

Anakin smirked.

“What happened this time, Kenobi?” Mace asked. 

The day before, the last thing I remember clearly is reading in my quarters. After that it’s quite blurry. I remember walking a long way, the force strange and distorted. I again felt compelled.”

He described the peculiar room where he woke up and what he could remember of his return journey back to the lower detention levels. 

Mace gripped his chin in his hand. “Hmm. I don’t know what to make of this.” 

He turned to the group and started delegating.

“Vos, I want you to see if you can follow his trail.”

“Skywalker, you can take Obi-Wan back to his quarters when Master Eerin clears him. Don’t leave him alone.”

“Kenobi, you will see a mind healer without argument, or I’ll have you tied down and kept sedated until you do. Tomorrow.” 

Obi-Wan supposed it was the right thing to do and it wasn’t like he had a choice. He had four bullies who would force him into it anyway.

With that, Mace and Quinlan left. 

“May I leave, O lovely Master Eerin?” Obi-Wan inquired.

She narrowed her eyes. “If you can eat, you can leave.” She turned to Anakin.

“Skywalker, you must not let him exert himself. No heavy research, no heavy force use. Just rest until he sees the mind healer. Make sure that he eats and doesn’t worry himself into oblivion. I’ll check in.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow. Those were not easy tasks.

Obi-Wan forced down some bland gruel that he can’t imagine could ever entice an ill being to eat and they leave, returning to his quarters. 

“I’m going to shower, Anakin. I’m quite positive I don’t need your assistance.”

Anakin smirked. “Suit yourself.” 

Obi-Wan emerged from the ‘fresher wearing only a pair of sleeping pants, low on his hips. Anakin studied him, appreciating his strong but compact body and his belly, flat, firm and fuzzy, not too muscly. Anakin could tell, however, that he wasn’t in the mood for anything. In the force, he felt as prickly as an Onderonian wart pig and equally as ready to charge. 

“I could make you tea?”

“Anakin, the tea you make is swill. I don’t need any right now.”

Gods, it had to be bad if Obi-Wan didn’t want tea. Not only did he feel testy, exhaustion was seeping through his strong shielding. 

“Why don’t you rest some?” 

“Anakin, I’m not one of the twins. I don’t need a minder. Don’t you need to go back to Naboo?” 

“Padme and the twins already left, and you know I can’t leave you alone. I’ll go back in a few days.”

Despite his words, Obi-Wan sat beside him on the couch and turned to lie down. Anakin took his legs in his lap and ran his hand along the strong, slender calf. He massaged a shapely foot. Obi-Wan sighed softly and melted a little bit. 

Anakin could tell by his breathing that he’d fallen asleep. The light was growing dim with the coming dusk. He noticed appreciatively that Obi-Wan’s beard was growing back. He also noted that the little line between his eyebrows was deeper, and permanent. He hated these signs of strain and aging. He wished he could make it all stop. 

Lulled by his ex-master’s soft snores, he thought back to the past. 

He had his own nightmares, brought on by Sidious. The way Obi-Wan spoke of them, his nightmares had a similar feel, the same sense of dread and of being compelled. Sidious was dead, he reassured himself. He had died at his hand; he’d seen the light leave his eyes. 

He shuddered to think of what would have happened if he hadn’t. Seeing his own yellow eyes in the mirror just once had been enough. A shiver moved through him. 

Obi-Wan slept on, still, hands folded over his belly. Anakin wanted so badly to take him back to Naboo and care for him there, feed him the nut pastries that he loved and would eat even if he were feeling poorly. 

When he had taken Obi-Wan back to Naboo after the war, he had been nothing but fragile, elegant bones, the scaffolding of a once lovely architecture. It had taken a year for him to be himself again. In some ways, it had been idyllic, the best year of Anakin’s life. He remembered Obi-Wan holding a sleeping Luke to his chest, himself napping in the warm sunlight of his bedroom’s balcony. They had all been together, as they should be, as they had been before Obi-Wan made the decision to return.  
Anakin started to doze a bit as the sun continued to set. 

As Anakin pondered, Obi-Wan dreamed. 

He was back in the room with the high, vaulted, triangular ceiling. The architecture was severe in its elegance. He wasn’t sure how something so ordered could also speak of anger and chaos. He saw it then, the strange triangular object. He felt the intense urge to touch it, hold it, and possess it. Nothing else mattered; it was beautiful beyond compare. He walked towards its, unable to stop.

Anakin woke to Obi-Wan stirring and sitting up. He began to stride towards the door. His eyes were strange, glassy and vacant. 

“Obi-Wan, where are you going”?

No answer. Obi-Wan was still clad in only his sleep pants, which were hanging low. He would never, in all the Sith hells, go out of his rooms looking like that.

“Stop!”

He didn’t event turn to look at Anakin. Anakin ran in front of him and tried to take his shoulders.

“Wake up!”

Obi-Wan just kept moving. This had to have been what happened the last times. Anakin resorted to the physical and tackled him down to the ground. Obi-Wan somehow flipped him over and maneuvered Anakin into a chokehold. Obi-Wan had always been a wily fighter, he initially thought, but then was distracted by the lack of air. 

Anakin gathered the force around him and managed to throw Obi-Wan off. He used his full weight and strength to hold him down, pinning his arms to the ground. Before that, Obi-Wan managed to get a solid hit to his left eye, making him see stars. They were both panting, at full exertion. Obi-Wan kept trying to kick him off with unnatural strength; it would be near impossible to contain him for very long. 

Anakin new he’d need to do something that Obi-Wan would hate, but he had to. He allowed his consciousness to drift into Obi-Wan’s mind and yelled as loud as he could in the force. Wake up!! Anakin hated what he saw, red, black, and hatred. Gods, it was so similar to his own visions. He shuddered. 

Obi-Wan stilled under him. His eyes regained their focus. 

“Anakin, what in the in all the stars?”

Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin and noticed a reddening and swollen eye as well as faint handprints around his neck. With a sinking feeling, he knew that he had inflicted them. 

“Anakin, are you hurt? I could have hurt you badly.” They both sat up, and Obi-Wan reached out to tenderly touch his face.

“Nothing major. You startled me more than anything.” 

“Anakin, what are we going to do? Maybe I should be locked up. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” 

That would kill him, Anakin new that. Obi-Wan was definitely not made for idleness or captivity. Obi-Wan lightly touched the bruises on his neck, and the pain started to recede.

“I’ll know what to expect next time so you don’t catch me off guard.”

Anakin pushed his hand away. “Don’t waste your energy on healing me, it’s minor.” 

“It could swell.” Obi-Wan said in a low voice. He paused. 

“I’m so exhausted Anakin, but I’m afraid to sleep.” 

It had to be bad if he was admitting to feeling unwell. Obi-Wan lay down on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Anakin lay down beside him and took his hand in his own. Neither of them slept for the rest of the night.

While Anakin and Obi-Wan worried, Quinlan Vos wandered. He’d memorized what Obi-Wan had remembered of the route he’d taken out of the mysterious room. After gathering supplies, he took the lift down to the lowest detention level and found where Obi-Wan had entered the guardroom. It looked like the opening to a ventilation shaft. The force was strange around it, like someone had used it to hide the way long ago. He touched the door and could tell that Obi-wan had passed through. 

He tracked Obi-wan’s route downward. As he got lower, time and the force seemed more and more warped and dark. Quinlan entered the largest storeroom, full of dusty and kriffing creepy objects. It felt like they were all making a pass at him only to pull him into oblivion. He wanted to vomit at the thought of touching them. 

He could feel the faint sense of Obi-Wan in this room, but couldn’t find the way lower. He searched every corner, feeling the walls. The opening to any lower chambers had to have been force sealed. He sat cross-legged on the floor and sent his consciousness around the room. Nothing. Well, this was weird.

Quinlan made his way back and up to Mace’s quarters. It was early morning at this point, but he’d been told to report as soon as he was back. 

Mace answered the door fully dressed. Quinlan wondered if he ever slept. 

“Vos, come in. What did you find?” 

“I was able to follow his trail most of the way but lost it after a while. Never found the room he described waking up in. Either it doesn’t exist or it was hidden within the force so deeply I couldn’t see it or sense it.” 

“Did you sense anyone else’s presence there?”

“Not in the last five hundred years.”

Quinlan knew what they both were thinking. There was no trace of anyone else down there. If there was a door and it was hidden, Obi-Wan would’ve been the only one who could have concealed it. 

Mace frowned. “He either losing his mind, is possessed, or something we don’t clearly understand. None of these options are good.” 

“No. Not at all.” 

Quinlan knew he’d have to find his friend help as soon as he could, he just had no idea how. He imagined that none of them did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will eventually be more clear, just not yet :).
> 
> Comments are always welcome; I'd love to know what you think! 
> 
> I'm also darthplodder on tumblr, so come by if you'd like.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meditations, confessions, a trip to the mind-healer, and some research. It's a very long day. Perhaps our heroes are getting closer to the truth, or some version of it.

Pale pink but smoggy light filtered through the blinds covering the small balcony’s windows. Anakin watched Obi-wan shift restlessly on his floor cushion, trying to sink into meditation. His hair was a bit askew; robes were half hazard, partially sliding off one shoulder. Anakin couldn’t help but think of Luke trying to sit still during dinner with Padme’s stodgy, elderly relatives. 

It would have been funny if it hadn’t been his tidy master who could meditate in the middle of a brothel at midnight or an ion storm. He really didn’t like the purple stains under his eyes, sunken in their rim of bone or the frenetic, tense energy humming through their bond. 

“Why don’t you rest in your bed for a while?”

“Anakin, it will happen again” Obi-wan gave him a fond look and then rasped gentle, calloused fingers over his swollen eye.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Anakin took his hand in his own and held it. “I know what to do. I wasn’t really prepared for how you were going to act, and I panicked. Next time I’ll wake you up through our bond.”

Anakin stood up and pulled Obi-Wan to standing. He ushered him into his bedroom and pulled off his outer robes. Obi-Wan raised a brow.

“Anakin, you know that a domineering approach doesn’t work with me.” He looked up at Anakin with half-lidded eyes.

“Really? Seems to have worked so far.” Anakin pushed him onto the bed.

Obi-wan sighed and curled onto his side. He reached out and pulled Anakin down beside him. Anakin wiggled into his strong arms and worked on slow and steady breathing, hoping to lull Obi-Wan into sleep. He concentrated on their bond, strengthening it, imagining it as a bright aura of light enveloping the two of them like newly born stars. 

Thankfully, Obi-Wan fell asleep. Anakin managed, with excruciating slowness and precision, to extract himself from his grasp. Obi-Wan turned over onto his back and snuffled, but didn’t seem to wake up. Anakin knew what he had to do, and he loathed it. He’d rather go head to head with some ancient, cranky Sith lord than tackle his next project. He, failed Jedi with the tolerance for stillness of a monkey-lizard, needed to meditate.

Not only meditate, but also to do so on a topic that he’d tried to forget; one that woke him up gasping in the darkest hours of the night. He sat in the lotus position and centered himself inward, counting the even, steady beats of his heart. 

Obi-Wan had been about to leave for Utapau, but had turned and looked back at Anakin with nothing but warmth and unconditional love. His face tender and dear, he told him about what a fine Jedi he was, finer than he would ever be. Something in Anakin had cracked at that moment; the metaphysical armor he had built around himself fell off, leaving him raw and exposed. 

Obi-Wan had been Sidious’ fatal error. Padme he knew about and used Anakin’s love for her to warp him. Sidious hadn’t known that there was another love, equally as strong, that could save him from darkness. Anakin couldn’t bear to lose Padme, but he also couldn’t bear to lose Obi-Wan. 

Despite Sidious’ words, he knew that he had to tell Obi-Wan about the Sith and about his dreams of Padme. They had gone to the council together and recalled Yoda from Kashykk. Together, with many of the council members, they went to confront Sidious. 

Weakened by his battle with Yoda and Mace, Sidious had used the last of his energy to torment Obi-Wan, who was already starting to succumb to a horrible abdominal wound and crush injuries to both legs from falling debris. Anakin had felt Obi-Wan fading into the force. 

As he impaled the Sith, Obi-Wan’s presence was nearly gone, a solitary star in the empty void of space. It was the most hollow, sinking feeling, fully incomprehensible. 

As Anakin choked on his terrible grief, the Sith let out a final death cackle, a horrible rattle that echoed across the decimated room. 

“You will never have him!” emerged from his mouth in a grating whisper, dead white face in a horrible rictus, dull eyes staring directly at Obi-Wan’s crumpled body. 

Anakin had always taken that to mean that Obi-Wan was dead and that Anakin would be without his beloved companion. Now, during his meditation, he looked at it from a different light and wondered if the pronouncement had actually been directed at Obi-Wan and not himself. What would that change?

Sidious had not so much faded into the force as splintered into it, fragmenting and fighting tooth and nail. Had he infected Obi-Wan in some way? The dreams he had glimpsed last night felt the same as his own, so urgent and compelling. 

The presence of Bant at the door disturbed Anakin from his thoughts. He let her in. 

Obi-Wan is asleep? She stated more than asked, walking to the living room and sitting on one of the low chairs. Anakin followed her and sat as well. 

“Any more headaches or dreams?” Bant folded her hands in her lap.

“Yes and yes, I guess.” Anakin was hesitant at first to let her know of the most recent episode, but he supposed he must. Bant looked at him with such wide, sweet eyes that he couldn’t resist. She walked over to him and took his face in her hand. 

“What happened here?” 

“He went into some trance thing again. He was so desperate to leave that he fought me like a cornered gundark. I managed to wake him up by basically entering his mind through our bond. It wasn’t a nice thing to do”

At this point, Obi-Wan emerged from his room, neatly dressed. He was holding himself straight and still, prickly exhaustion bleeding through the gaps in his shields. 

“Bant, darling, how nice of you to stop by. You shouldn’t have.”

“Obi, you curmudgeon, you knew I was coming. Did you rest at all? 

“Some” 

Anakin pointedly shook his head no. 

“Of course not. Why do I even bother to ask?" If she could have rolled her eyes, she would have. 

“Bant, if you turned into some kind of homicidal automaton every time you slept, you too would be reluctant.”

Bant was saved having to reply by the arrival of Mace and Quinlan, who came in and sat, taking chairs from the small dining table. 

“You two look overly grave. Did you find a Sith lair in the temple basement?” Obi-Wan looked at them expectantly. He continued to sit bolt upright and rigid on his low chair. 

Quin and Mace gave each other a side-glance. 

“I got as far as the lower storage chamber you described. Hope to never go back to that place again. I practically got mind raped by all that weird poodoo. It’s pretty clear why it was sealed off in the first place. Couldn’t find the next door though, or that chamber with the statues.“

“Thank you Master Vos, for that insightful commentary. Kenobi, do you remember sealing off the door? Or are you sure there was one?” Mace grimaced. 

Obi-Wan traveled back in his mind. It had been so hard just to break free of the strange inner chamber. That effort had used up the majority of his energy. He couldn’t imagine using that amount of force-labor to seal the door again. 

That being said, the passage of time had been so strange. There was much on the edge of his memory that he just couldn’t grasp, like trying to remember something from earliest childhood. 

“No, I don’t remember sealing anything.” 

“Why didn’t you comm anyone?” Mace queried.

“It didn’t work”

“Can you go get it?” Mace looked at him expectantly.

Obi-Wan walked into his bedroom and retrieved his commlink. He passed it to Mace who fiddled with it for a moment.

“It seems to be functional.”

“I know its odd, but truly, it wouldn’t function. I hope you know that after all these years, I’m not an idiot. 

“I don’t think that at all. You are reckless and avoid assistance though.”

Mace continued on.

“It just could be that your memory is not reliable, that something was influencing you or exhaustion had clouded your mind.”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “Of course I tried to use the comm. I could go back down there with you all and try to find the door.”

Mace frowned and Vos looked uncomfortable. 

“We may have to do that, but I don’t think it’s the best idea right now. We don’t know exactly how you’ll respond or what you even were looking for.”

Mace looked over at Anakin and took in his bruised face. 

“Were you and Skywalker sparring again?” Quin raised his eyebrows and smirked, which earned him an elbow to the thigh. Anakin explained the evening’s events. It didn’t seem possible, but Mace screwed his face more deeply into a frown. 

“Vos, you are to escort Kenobi to the mind healers. No arguments or resistance from you.” He gave Obi-Wan a pronounced look.

Anakin stood up and hugged himself with his arms. 

“I can take him.”

“No Skywalker. You’re too close to him. I don’t want your bond to influence their findings or your worry to impede them.” Mace stared him down.

“I should be the one to take him.” Anakin stood firm.

“If you would kindly remember, you are no longer a Jedi. It is my generosity which is allowing you to stay here in the temple, and I’m only doing it for him.”

Anakin stood down and fell back onto the couch.

Obi-Wan stirred from his previous stillness. “I’m sitting right here while you all talk about me, and I have my own feelings on the matter. Anakin, you should stay and get some rest. It’s probably not best to have you wandering about the temple anyway and the healing may be upsetting.” He looked to Bant.

“Will you be there?”

“Of course. I’m going to go prepare now.” With that, she was up and out the door. 

“I will meet you at the healing halls later. You are to report in one hour. You’re not to be left alone.” With that, Mace left. 

Alone with Vos and Anakin, Obi-Wan stood and made the face of a man about to meet a firing squad. 

“I’m going to shower. Please don’t eat each other alive while I’m gone.”

Anakin stared at Quinlan, who was humming and shaking his leg. 

“You know Skywalker, it doesn’t have to be this way. I think the two of us could get on. Once this blows over, the three of us could…” He made a suggestive face.

“Vos, stop. Why are you like this?”

“Let go a little. Unwind.”

“How can you say that right now?”

“Is having a stick up your ass helping the situation in any way? “

Anakin supposed it wasn’t. He took a deep breath. 

“Before the end of the war, I started having visions of Padme dying in childbirth. They were planted by Sidious.” 

“Ooh confessions. We are going to be friends, aren’t we.” 

“Vos. Please. In order to wake him up last night, I had to briefly invade his mind. The visions felt the same to me. The feel was the same.”

“What do you think it means?”

“Obi-Wan died that night. He died, and I somehow used the force to revive him.”

Quinlan looked like he was processing this information. He at least stopped tapping and humming and listened intently.

“What may be important is that Palpatine died at the same time or near it. What if he infected Obi-Wan somehow?”

“Why would it show up now, two years later? Its not like he’s been going on Sithly rampages with raping, pillaging, and general mayhem. If anything, he’s been more subdued.”

“Well, Palpatine was just like his Sith name. Insidious and subtle. He was a master planner, for stars sake”

“I suppose it’s possible, though kind of unlikely. We do need to know what that thing is, what ever he’s looking for.”

Obi-Wan emerged from the ‘fresher at this point, clean and in his usual state of tidiness. 

“It’s some kind of holocron or something.”

“Did you see it when you looked through the stuff we retrieved from his office?”

“No, but I’ve never looked specifically for it or mention of it. The last time I looked through his things, the dreams hadn’t progressed that far.”

“Well, we need to look through that stuff again. Tonight.”

 

“Agreed.Tonight.” Obi-Wan headed for the door.

“Quin, shall we go?”

“Of course, my darling. Let me escort you.” Quinlan took Obi-Wan’s arm like he was leading a debutant to a ball. 

This earned him an aggressive eye roll from Anakin and a punch in the shoulder. 

“Lets get this over with.”

 

Quinlan followed Obi-Wan over to the healing halls. He was oddly silent, looking straight ahead, walking with dogged purpose. Quinlan supposed he felt like he was going before judge and jury. Their footsteps echoed like heartbeats in the long, cavernous hallway. Quinlan didn’t think that he was all that great at comforting anyone, but he thought he should try.

“Its not as if you meant to do anything wrong. They might be able to help.”

“Doubtful. What if they find something? What are we going to do? Worse yet, what if they don’t find anything? Then I’m just mad. I’m not sure what’s worse.”

“Well, we’ll at least have some answers.”

“Maybe.”

They arrived and were brought to a room in the back. It was force shielded and private. Bant was there as well as a tall female Iktotchi whose force presence was quiet and serene. 

“Hello Master Kenobi, I am Faleth. Lay in the bed if you would please.” She looked back down at the datapad she was studying. 

Quinlan watched as his friend silently complied. He was a bit surprised when they started attaching Obi-Wan to various monitors and placed an intravenous line. He was uncharacteristically docile. 

“This is the oddest start to a mind healing session that I’ve ever participated in.” Obi-Wan glanced at the IV line. 

“Don’t be anxious, release those feelings. We do not know how you will respond to the mind probe or what we will find. We must take every precaution. Master Eerin will monitor your health during the procedure.” Her voice was even and monotonous, not overly empathetic. 

Obi-Wan, if anything, felt more anxious in the force. 

“I’m going to give you a medication at the beginning to make your mind more receptive. I hear you are a stubborn one.” 

Quinlan snickered.

She pulled out a syringe. “Your not likely to remember much of this. It’s likely for the better.” 

Obi-Wan stared at the ceiling and sighed.

“Quin, sit in the corner over there and don’t cause any ruckus.” Bant handed him a syringe. “If all else fails, tackle him and shove this into his arm.” 

“Well, I’m glad I’m the brawns of this operation.” The mind-healer gave him a pointed look. He obeyed and sat in the chair. 

She injected the syringe into the IV line and sat at Obi-Wan’s bedside. Quinlan felt Obi-Wan go still and quiet in the force. His eyes closed, and his breathing was even and steady. She placed her large hand on Obi-Wan’s forehead and began to chant softly. In a few moments, she was silent. 

An hour passed by in quiet stillness. Quinlan would have been bored, if he didn’t feel so tense and restless. Bant felt it too; she was fussing with the monitors and her datapad. 

Quinlan looked down towards Obi-Wan, who had become even paler, if possible. Beads of sweat were forming on his face and dampening his hair. He seemed to have a fine tremor which strengthened into rigors as he watched, like some terrible fever. Quinlan looked over to Bant who had approached the bed. 

“Master Vii, you have to stop. He’s not tolerating it anymore.” 

“I’m almost there. There’s something deep within.” She sounded as calm and distant as ever. 

“His heart rate and blood pressure are too high. You’re going to hurt him. We have to stop for now.” Bant emphatically placed her own hand on the healer’s arm. 

Master Vii looked up at the monitors and released her hand, as well as her concentration. 

Bant, having a fair idea of what would happen next, grabbed a basin and held it out to Obi-Wan. Now out of his trance, he promptly sat up and vomited bile. 

“Easy there, Obi.” She took the basin and handed him a small glass of water. 

“Well, you ladies certainly know how to show a gentleman a good time.” He grimaced. 

Quinlan felt slightly better knowing his friend could at least still joke. Master Vii opened the door and allowed Mace to come in. 

“Well, what did you find?” He asked with arms crossed in his usual stance.

There’s an anomaly deep in his subconscious that’s tightly walled off, just like the body treats any foreign material. These are not shields he built to keep others out, but rather his mind’s attempts to protect itself from whatever is encased. I strongly suspect that whatever is in there is the source of his odd behavior.”

“Can you break through these barriers?”

“I tried, but he did not tolerate it well. I will discuss this with some of the other mind-healers and we will have to try again. We may have to sedate him with a different cocktail of medicines. There may be some trial and error involved.”

Obi-Wan groaned. He looked grey. “That sounds delightful. You should consider opening a day spa.” 

Bant put her hand on his shoulder. “We can’t do anything further today. You should go and rest. We’ll try again later.”

“Well, I agree with the ‘go’ part of that statement. Quin, let’s leave.” Bant looked at him wistfully and handed him a small canister. 

“There’s headache medicine in here. Take it with plenty of water.”

“Alright Kenobi, you’ll return here when they ask. You’re still not to be left alone.” Mace turned and left the room. 

“It would be my honored privilege to return to this fine establishment.” Obi-Wan stood gingerly and bowed. Quinlan came up beside him and escorted him out, watching closely to see if he was unsteady. He felt distinctly unwell in the force. 

“I’ll be fine in a minute Quin, don’t hover.”

“I’ll hover if I want to. I happen to enjoy hovering.” Obi-Wan gave him a small, tepid smile. They walked sedately and companionably back to Obi-Wan’s quarters. 

 

Anakin threw open the door. He looked as pale as Obi-Wan. Not caring that Quinlan was there, he took a startled Obi-Wan into his arms and hugged him tight. Quin snuck by them and went to the living room to hide. 

“Anakin, Anakin, easy. I’m all right.”

“Like hell you are. I could feel your pain through our bond. It was like they were torturing you. It was horrible.” He had tears staining his face. 

Obi-Wan released one of his arms from their embrace and rubbed the tears from his cheek. 

“Dear one, it will all be all right. I don’t even remember what they did; I just feel a bit ill. Anakin, lets not stand in the hallway. I need something to settle my stomach.”

“You haven’t eaten all day.”

“Neither have you. You can’t even deny that, can you. So lets eat.” He gave Anakin an affectionate smile and tousled his hair. He tried to channel his calm master vibes. Anakin seemed to settle. 

“I have to say that we’re all terrible cooks. Quin, can you go get food from the commissary or wherever? Quinlan hated being idle, so Obi-Wan figured he’d be glad to have a task. 

“Sure thing.” He took off from the apartment. 

Obi-Wan set water boiling for tea and found some crackers. He gave a handful to Anakin and took some for himself. 

“They did find something foreign in my mind, but they’re not sure what to make of it.” 

He explained how the Iktochi healer had attempted to break through it, but failed. 

“I’m not looking forward to the repeat attempts. My head aches abominably.”

“Well, we’re going to eat and then you’re going to rest for a while. Then we need to go to the vault to look through Palpatine’s crap. We have to at least try to figure out what that thing is.”

“Tonight then.”

 

Come 0000 hours, the unlikely trio of Anakin, Quinlan, and Obi-Wan made their way down to the library. There were a few nocturnal Jedi wandering about, but none seemed too interested in their business. Obi-Wan used his code to access the restricted vault where the items from Palpatine’s office were stored and then ushered in Quinlan and Anakin. 

He pulled out the storage crates and handed one to each of them. The light was dim and the room hummed with the low buzz of electronics.

“Start looking, I suppose. It’s not overly organized, and much of it is garbage, little notes that don’t seem useful. All the electronic items self-destructed.”

Obi-Wan paused and rubbed his incipient beard. 

“The object is the size of a holocron, triangular in shape. It’s the usual Sith red and black. So predictable.”

The three of them were all tired and not overly talkative. They each began sorting and looking through various papers and notebooks. 

After about an hour, Anakin found a small, nerf-leather bound notebook. He skimmed through the pages and paused, then walked over to Obi-Wan’s table.

“Do you remember this? He handed the open notebook to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan took it and ran his hand over the cover. He opened it, revealing strange writing in a spidery, elegant hand. There was something menacing about it.

He frowned, drawing his brows together. “I have no recollection of this, none at all.” 

“What language is it?” Anakin peered at the page. 

Quinlan had walked over at this point, and looked down over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.  
“It’s a dialect of Sith, an older variety.”

They both looked at him incredulously. 

“What, I was a shadow, you know. I studied this stuff with Master Tholme.”

“Can you read it?”

“No, its in code. Has to be. It reads like word salad.”

Obi-Wan flipped through the pages of the book. How had he missed this in his previous ruminations? 

“I should remember this.” Obi-Wan blanched and stopped turning the pages. 

“That’s it. I know it.” He pointed to a hand-drawn image. It sat alone on an otherwise blank page. The object was as described and looked surprisingly innocent. There was a small phrase underneath. 

“Can you read that, Quin?”

Quinlan took the book from Obi-Wan and turned his head to the side. “I think it says from the journals or notes of DM.” 

“Who’s DM?” Anakin sat on the edge of the table, peering down at it.

“Darth someone, maybe. Malak?” 

“Could be. We’ll have to break the code to understand it more, or find a key.”

Quinlan took the journal and placed it in his pocket. “I’ll see what I can do with it. There’s a couple of people who owe me a favor who maybe can help.” He patted Obi-Wan on the arm. “At least we found it. We know Sidious was studying whatever it was.”

They left the vault and sat at a console. Obi-Wan scanned the drawing and ran it through several databases which yielded no results. Meanwhile, Anakin looked up what he could find on Darth Malak. None of it involved this particular object, at least nothing available to the Jedi.

Exhausted and frustrated, the men returned to their rooms. The only clues they seemed to have were disjointed assumptions mixed with fragments of truth. The answer still was as elusive and fleeting as the brief glimpse of a dream had before waking. Tomorrow would be a new day with hopefully a newfound clarity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the excitement, lets see how it goes!
> 
> Let me know if this is moving too slowly. Had a few things I wanted to happen before the major plot event. 
> 
> Any feedback is welcome!
> 
> Thanks for reading


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to spring the trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some smutty stuff at the beginning of this chapter, just a warning if that's not your thing. It's not graphic.

“I refuse to be bullied and pushed around by the likes of you two.” Obi-Wan made a serenely stern face while Anakin practically sat on top of him.

“There’s an easy solution then. Go to sleep” Anakin laughed.

Obi-Wan had run his fingers through his normally tidy hair, making it stand on end in places and making it hard to take him seriously. Quin and Anakin had wrestled him out of his robes, into sleep pants, and then pinned him on the bed with only mild difficulty. It was obvious that Obi-Wan was trying harder not to laugh then he was to be angry. 

“Just take the shot and sleep for a while. You’ll feel better.” Anakin tried without success to straighten out his hair. 

“Doubtful. Go ahead then. I recognize this as a battle than I cannot win. I hope the two of you graciously accept my surrender. I trust you not to take advantage of my poor, helpless self while I succumb to your poison.” Obi-Wan sighed and sunk further into the bed.

Quinlan raised a brow. “Well, I won’t, but I can’t make any promises for this one.” 

With that, Anakin pushed him out of the room. 

Before they’d left the healing halls, Bant had slipped Quinlan a small container of hyposprays. She’d explained that the red ones were for sleep and the blue ones would render him unconscious, if it came to that. Vos gave one to Anakin on the way out. 

“Just relax and don’t fight it.” Anakin gently applied the syringe to his neck and delivered the drug. He added a light sleep suggestion, for good measure, covered him with the blanket, and turned off the lights. Anakin left the room to see if he and Vos could pursue any leads. 

After an hour or so, Anakin and Quinlan sat on opposites sides of the living room, each pretending to do research on their ‘pads as night slowly turned into morning.

Quinlan looked up from his lap “Hey, you’re nodding off. Why don’t you go join him?" He gave a suggestive grin. “You know you want to. He gets in the mood at weird times.” 

“I don’t even want to think about how you know that” Anakin looked disgusted, but he turned towards Vos. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah. I never sleep much.”

Anakin frowned. “You’ll keep watch, then?”

“Yup. Not going anywhere. It’ll be a huge sacrifice, but I’ll hold him tightly if he tries to leave.”

“You’re kriffing awful. All right. Fine.”

Anakin entered the cool, dim room and removed his clothes. The grey light of the ever-buzzing city polluted the darkness, oozing through the blinds like smoke. Obi-Wan was lying on his back, softly snoring. The covers were pulled back to his waist. Anakin smiled and gently climbed on the bed. Whether from drugs or the day’s excitement, Obi-Wan remained deeply asleep. Anakin curled up beside him, soaking in his sleepy warmth. 

Anakin dozed fitfully for several hours, haunted by restless dreams full of odd images that he couldn’t quite place or remember. There was a sense of falling, of running, of loss and empty rooms. He awoke with a feeling of unknowable urgency and dread. Sitting up, he noted that it had to be late morning. The bed smelled of Ob-Wan, of warm skin, his slightly herbal soap, and clean linen. 

Anakin looked down at the man beside him. He’d stopped snoring; his lips were slightly open, lashes fluttering. Anakin reached down and traced, ever so lightly, the faint scar on his abdomen, feeling its gentle rise and fall with his breathing, the pleasing heat of his skin. Anakin knew he shouldn’t wake him, but this residual deep unease left by his dreams made him want nothing but comfort. He had this strange, out of place sense of grief and loss, though nothing was gone. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open and he gave Anakin a dazed smile. “Hello there, dear one.” 

Anakin felt calm, loving energy pass through their bond. 

“What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan sleepily patted the side of his face. 

Anakin looked down at him. “I feel like we’re out of time”

“Time for what Anakin? I’m here with you right now.”

Anakin leaned down next to him and started tracing various scars, over his ribs, one under his graceful right clavicle, down his left bicep, and back to his the one on the midline of his belly. They were all familiar to him, all beautiful. Anakin knew all their stories like he knew his own. He ran his finger down, closer to his pubic bone. Obi-Wan shivered. 

“Anakin, what…”

“I can’t get this feeling out of my head.” Anakin’s sense of urgency was turning into to a growing sense of need.

When Obi-Wan stirred as if to get up, Anakin straddled his waist and pinned his arms above his head, as if holding him down would keep him there forever. Obi-Wan didn’t fight him but looked up at him with expectant, half-lidded eyes. 

Despite his aggressive posture, Anakin kissed him softly, gently exploring the warmth of his mouth, nibbling at his lower lip, enjoying the rasp of his growing stubble against his skin. He let go of Obi-Wan’s wrists and then tenderly kissed the translucent, blue-veined skin. 

Obi-Wan wreathed his fingers into Anakin’s hair and firmly pulled as Anakin nibbled his clavicle, licked and lightly bit each nipple, and then kissed a path southward down his belly, with a brief stop at his navel. Anakin pulled his pants down and then moved lower still, biting the inside of each lean thigh. Obi-Wan groaned and dug his nails into Anakin’s shoulders, a warm flush staining his pale cheeks, extending down to his neck. Anakin felt overheated, over stimulated. Their bond buzzed with expectant energy. He was uncomfortably hard.

Obi-Wan stirred under him, “Anakin, I don’t know that I have the energy for this right now.” Despite this, an undercurrent of desire ran through their bond. 

“Do you want me to stop? If not, I’ll do all the work.” Anakin kissed the slightly prominent arc of his hip, covered in its pale expanse of faintly freckled skin. Obi-Wan sighed and smiled trustingly. “Go on then. Quin’s out there.” He looked towards the door. 

“I don’t think he minds.”

“Probably not.” Anakin kissed him again lightly, and then took him in his mouth.

Obi-Wan breaths came in short pants with the occasional gasp as he writhed underneath him. After his release, Anakin brushed the sweaty hair off his forehead and caressed his face. The flush extended onto his chest, his pale skin the perfect canvas. 

“Oh Anakin, I’m very fond of you.” Obi-Wan rolled onto his belly. 

“We don’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”

“I want this, love. Please.” Rarely did Obi-Wan use endearments and rarely did he ask. Anakin shivered despite his blood near on boiling. With pleasure, he ran his hands along Obi-Wan’s trim, strong back till he reached his ass. After careful preparation, Obi-Wan was wriggling under him, gripping the pillow above his head with white knuckles.

“Anakin, please. I’ve not a monk’s patience.” He softly growled. 

No, you don’t, thought Anakin, but he knew for some reason that he should savor this moment. He eased his way in and then set a gradually increasing rhythm, allowing the movement of his body to release his sense of urgency and loss, to allow himself a brief moment of possession. At his release, he collapsed down upon on Obi-Wan, covering his body with his own as if they were briefly one bright being. 

Anakin rolled off onto his back. They were both sweaty and completely shattered, damp skin rapidly cooling in the early morning air. Obi-Wan was still breathing heavily, longer than it should have taken him to recover. His eyes were worryingly sunken in their sockets. Anakin suddenly felt sick with guilt. 

“Stop that. Anakin. I needed that as much as you did.” Obi-Wan patted his flank and then sat up. 

“We’re filthy. I’m going to try to work up the energy to shower.” Obi-Wan hated to be untidy for any length of time, fastidious as a tooka. 

“I’ll join you.”

They got into the steaming shower, and for once, Anakin was glad that it was tiny. Their close proximity made it easier to support a still worn Obi-Wan as he halfheartedly washed. Anakin dried him off and bundled him back into bed. He allowed this passively, not saying much of anything. Whatever was going on with him was sapping all his energy. Anakin had seen him recover faster from serious injuries and be less passive in a bacta tank. 

Anakin sat down on the edge of the bed and frowned, thoughts disturbed by a chime from the small table where his bag sat. His holoreciever. He answered the call and Padme was there, looking distressed. 

“Anakin, Luke and Leia are sick. It’s some kind of flu, but quite virulent. Leia is all right, just fussy and feverish, but the healers are going to have to keep Luke over night in the med center. They’re worried about him.”

Anakin was overwhelmed by the returning sense of dread. He felt terribly torn. 

“You have to go to them” Obi-wan rolled over and turned towards him. “You know that. Quin will take care of me, not to worry. Go.” He got up and walked over to Anakin, placing his hand on his shoulder. 

Anakin nodded, looking towards Obi-Wan longingly, then replied to Padme “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Anakin ended the call and began hurriedly packing his belongings. 

“You better call me or message me, at least twice a day.” Anakin nearly begged. 

Obi-Wan raised a ginger brow and gave him a half smile. “Of course. The twins will be fine, Anakin, they’re very strong.” He squeezed his shoulder gently. 

“I’ll see you later. Now go.” Obi-Wan pushed him gently away. 

Anakin bolted out the door, and worked on finding himself transport to Naboo. He’d return as soon as he could. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan collapsed back on the bed, closed his eyes and passed out, sinking into oblivion. He woke a few hours later, feeling marginally better, eyes sticky and mouth like a dried up swamp. After using the ‘fresher, cleaning his teeth, and dressing, he walked out to the living room, where Quinlan was doing a one-handed handstand. He flipped back onto his feet, force presence thrumming with exhausted mania. Obi-Wan wondered when he had last slept. 

“My darling!! I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve made you a delicious and nutritious lunch. Why don’t you have a seat?’ Quin pulled out one of the chairs at the small table and leered a bit.

“I’m glad you and Skywalker got to bang one out before he left.”

Obi-Wan sat down at the table and rubbed at his stubble. “Have you completely cracked?”

“Dearest, I’m offended” He said with mock horror. 

Obi-Wan took in the dark circles under his eyes. “When did you last sleep, Quin?”

“Oh I don’t know. I don’t feel as terrible as you look, so there.”

Obi-Wan chose to ignore the later comment and sat at the table. “You should get some rest today, Quin. Someone else can be crèche master for a while.”

“I refuse to share. Eat your noodles.” 

Obi-Wan cringed a little. Instant noodles were the only thing he ever had in his kitchen because they didn’t go bad, and he never got tired of them. He hated to think what this said about his personality. He began to eat them obediently. 

“I scanned that journal and showed it to some friends. We’re working on the code.”  
There was a buzzing at the door, and Mace strode in, looking the two of them up and down.

“Where’s Skywalker?”

“Back to Naboo. Quin is staying with me.” 

Mace turned toward Quinlan “Vos, you look terrible. You will rest while I take Kenobi back to the mind healers.”

Obi-Wan agreed that Quin needed to sleep, but the other statement made his stomach sour, and he hoped the noodles would stay where they belonged. 

Quin stood up to his full height and strode towards Mace. “Can’t it wait? He’s still done in from the last time.”

“Quin, it’s fine.” Obi-Wan could feel Quinlan’s tense agitation. 

“Like hell it’s not fine. What’s your goal here, Windu?”

“We don’t know what’s going on with him and it could be dangerous, dangerous to those around him and to the order itself. The order also needs Kenobi as a functioning Jedi.”

Quin wrapped his arms around himself tightly. His shoulders had a fine tremor. “He’s given enough for you in the last 10 years. The order can kark itself. What good is it if you break him or kill him?”

Obi-Wan walked over to Quin and put his hands on his shoulders, trying to still him. “Quin, please stop.”

“Vos, I’m going to remember that you’re very tired. When you run the order, you can make these decisions. For now, stand down.”

Obi-Wan ignored Mace for a minute. “Go lay down Quin, rest until I’m back.” He squeezed his hand. “I’ve been through much worse.” Quinlan frowned and stalked off to the second bedroom. 

Mace gave Obi-Wan a small smile. “Come along. It won’t be as bad as you think.”

Obi-Wan followed him, walking a few paces behind. He wasn’t in the mood to talk. If he felt like he was going before a jury the first time, he felt like he was going in front of a firing squad armed with flamethrowers this time. He had half a mind to bolt, but where to? Naboo? It wouldn’t work. He didn’t want to put Anakin and his family in danger. 

They arrived at the halls and were taken back to a larger room. The Iktochi healer, Master Vii, was there again as well as Bant and some others he didn’t recognize. They all looked at him (except for Bant) like a particularly interesting insect pinned on a board. He wished Master Che were still alive. Despite their differences of opinions regarding injury management (and how long one needed for treatment), she didn’t tolerate any nonsense. He wondered how she would deal with this. 

Mace stood in the corner and watched stoically as they made Obi-Wan lie down on the cot and attached him to monitors. They started an intravenous line and placed some kind of restraints, which made the force feel distant.

“They don’t completely block you from reaching the force, only partially. They’re for your safety and ours.” One of the healers explained. He bit back nausea and stared at the ceiling and focused on his breathing. Closing his eyes he thought back to the gardens at the villa on Naboo, the heady scent of flowers, sounds of insects buzzing, low breeze shivering the leaves of the nearby trees, all a soft, gentle symphony. He felt something cool enter his veins and faded into oblivion. 

Obi-Wan awoke like a ship being yanked out of hyperspace into the middle of a battle. He realized he was crouched on the corner of the bed, restraints off, IV ripped out with a trail of blood across the sheets. The duraglass walls of the room were shattered. Several of the healers were on the floor in the far reaches of the room. One had blood running down her forehead. Mace and Bant were approaching him like one would an animal in a trap. 

“I take it that didn’t go as planned?” Obi-Wan asked. Every one seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief that he was now coherent. 

“Do you remember anything, Obi?” Bant coaxed him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“No. Did I do all of this?”

“Yes, and it was an impressive display of the force. Whatever is trapped in your mind does not want to be interfered with.” Mace rubbed his chin. 

“He will have to be completely force suppressed for the next attempt.” Master Vii suggested. The others picked themselves up off the floor. 

Obi-Wan rested his elbows on his thighs, head in his hands. This was certainly distressing. He was a walking bomb with an unreadable timer. They were no closer to figuring it out.

Mace escorted him back to his quarters in silence. Obi-Wan wanted nothing but dark and quiet for a while. He updated Anakin who stewed and fumed but was distracted by his own troubles and then went into the second bedroom where Quin was resting and climbed on the bed. 

Quin stirred and looked towards him. His eyes still looked shadowed. “Nothing good happened, did it Ben?” He sat up against the wall. 

“They couldn’t break in. I managed to destroy the room and throw the healers around. “ Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes. “Quin, I still don’t remember any of it. Any of it at all.” 

Quin scooted over towards him and they sat sided by side, shoulders and hips touching. 

“I think we’ll get more out of figuring out what that holocron thing is. That’s what we should be working on, not torturing you.” Quin’s eyes darkened. His face looked pinched. 

“Are you well?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Quin, please. You’re my dear friend. I can worry if I like.”

“It sounds dumb, but you’re all I have left, and I’m scared for you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s selfish and it is true. Most of the shadows are dead. My master is dead. I fell, and you were the only one who fought for me. I’m not given any real missions anymore. I don’t really sleep either. “

Quinlan must be feeling truly bad if he wasn’t trying to distract Obi-Wan with jokes and flirtation. Obi-Wan felt at a loss. He put his arm around his shoulders and leaned against him. They sat there in silence. 

“I’m sorry, dear friend. I wish I knew how to fix any of this.” 

Quin gently disentangled himself and got off the bed. He turned away. 

“I’m going to make some caf. Rest a bit. Going to think about a few things.”

Obi-Wan lay back down on the bed. He fingered the object in his pants pocket, one of the hyposprays Bant had given Quinlan, the potent sedative. 

Obi-Wan lay quietly for a while, biding his time. He waited until the wee hours of the night, devising a plan. He was sick of hiding from whatever this was, sick of hurting those around him. What would his old Clone Wars General self have done? Certainly he wouldn’t have sat around passively waiting for something to happen. He would have sprung the trap. 

Obi-Wan got up quietly and went into his own room. He retrieved his belt and packed it with a few things. He put his ‘saber into his pocket and slipped the hypospray into his left hand. His head felt clear for the first time in a long while, and he was flooded by a sense of relief and clarity of purpose. He went out to the kitchen were Quin was standing at the counter, reading a holopad. Obi-Wan approached him close enough to feel his warm breath and cupped his face with his right hand. 

“Ben, what?”

“I’m sorry, Quin.” He reached up with his left hand and shoved the hypospray into Quin’s neck. His eyes opened wide with shock for a second, then he went limp. Prepared, Obi-Wan caught him under the armpits and dragged him to the couch setting him on it gently with a touch of the force. 

Obi-Wan leaned down and kissed his cheek, right over his tattoo. 

“So sorry, dearest friend.”

Obi-Wan shielded himself to the best of his abilities, making himself quiet and still within the force. He crept down to the detention levels unnoticed and slipped through the hidden entrance to the storage rooms. His body knew where to go. He followed the force down lower and lower till he broke through the final door into the strange chamber where he had woken up before. It was the same, dark, cool, lit by ancient glow lamps. The statues still stood, frozen for eternity in their solemn judgment. Where to go next? Unlike his last visit, his mind was clear and he was filled with purpose. He studied each statue lining the walls. One was a little bit different, its face with a subtle smirk instead of a frown, eyes looking strait ahead instead of downturned like the others. 

Obi-Wan approached this statue and looked into its mocking, stony eyes. It was holding a light saber as were all of them, but the force felt different around this one. He grabbed the ‘saber and it pulled outward, causing a door to open behind it, the statue swinging inward. Well, I’ve entered into one of the scary holobooks that Anakin used to read when he thought I wasn’t looking. How quaint, he thought to himself. 

He entered the doorway, and it lead to a long, narrow stair lit with globes of a faint red hue. The air was stale, oppressive, with the feeling of a long sealed tomb. The force swirled around him, dark and twisted. He steeled himself and set his shoulders straight. The stairs seemed endless, driving him deeper and deeper into the heart of planet, farther than he ever thought possible. 

Downwards he walked, footsteps echoing, disturbing the silence with their retort and with plumes of dust. He hoped he didn’t wake any long sleeping beast. Sweat beaded at his forehead and the cadence of his heartbeat increased. The air felt as heavy and hard to breath as in a ship slowly losing its life support. After the stair, a long walkway loomed, poorly lit. Something was calling to him, a tiny siren lost in the darkness. 

Obi-Wan continued down the hall. He knew where it led, as he had seen it before. The hall opened up into a large chamber, cavernous with seemingly high, vaulted ceilings. He followed the path seen in his dreams to a small alter where the object sat. Triangular, wrought of dark metal, with an inner crimson glow, it seemed to sing softly. Just kriffing do it, he thought to himself. You have nothing to lose. 

As his fingers touched it, there was a blinding flash of red light. Falling backward, he saw an image of the Sith, Darth Sidious. 

“Hello old friend and worthy adversary” He sneered, gravely voice falsely simpering. “I see you’ve found my trap. I activated it long ago for any hapless Jedi who happened to wander into this place. As I died, I planted a curious type of seed in your mind to lead you here. For all that you did to thwart me, I will give you a unique kind of suffering far worse than death. If I could not have Skywalker, you certainly won’t either.”

With that, Obi-Wan continued to fall. He should have hit the floor long ago. He opened his eyes to total darkness and a sense of tumbling through empty, starless space. Closing his eyes again, the sensation continued. Was this death? Consciousness left him.

Suddenly but softly, he found himself lying on the ground. It was not the cold, hard floor of the chamber, but soft, fragrant dirt. He opened his eyes to a purple dusky sky, fading into the navy of early night. Surrounding him were tall, familiar fronds of grass. Something large came towards him, rustling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always! 
> 
> This story is so much different than the other I'm working on and its been fun switching back and forth.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, please let me know what you think! Good? Terrible? Ok? Quit while you're still ahead? :D


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